


The Chemicals Keeping Us Together

by AoiTsukikage



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 58,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoiTsukikage/pseuds/AoiTsukikage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern!Amis!AU. Both of them are willing to write it off as just a drunken mistake at a party, but with friends like theirs nothing is ever quite that simple to let go of. And maybe, for once, that will turn out to be a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting this in-progress from over at fanfiction.net now that I've got an account here :) Enjolras/Marius is the main pairing but there are other side pairings because I can never focus on just one.

It starts at a party.

Most of these things do, probably, but he's not quite sure if there's a handbook on, 'I got some bad news so I went and drank a little too much and ended up making out with this guy I barely know and when we realized what was going on it turned really awkward really fast'.

Maybe there is, but he hasn't seen one, and he's messed up enough as it is right now that dealing with this is just going to be Hellish.

It'd be different if it was a stranger, somebody he could laugh it off about and not think twice, but it's…not. Because his roommate happens to be, well, good friends at least with the guy he'd been…kissing, and it's going to be impossible to avoid them all unless he finds a new roommate or something.

Which he doesn't particularly want to do, seeing as how it's taken him long enough to get comfortable here. Still, he rubs his eyes and groans, it's not like he can just sweep this under the rug, not when they all run in the same circles. And it's not as if he'd gone to the party  _planning_ to make out with another guy, but somehow one thing had led to another and he was feeling just lost enough that he didn't really care who he was kissing.

He swings his legs out of the bed and tries to ignore his pounding head, slumping his way into the kitchen area and stopping short at the sight of another man sitting at their breakfast bar, wearing a paint-stained t-shirt and faded sweatpants and cradling a cup of coffee between his palms.

"Um…good morning?" Marius tries, because he's not all that used to having visitors yet although Courfeyrac has, well, quite the group of friends. He hasn't met many of them yet, but he'd half-expected his roommate to have dragged some girl home from the party (yeah, that's happened a few too many times for comfort already). But it's…he checks the clock…nearly noon on a Saturday, so not as early as he'd thought.

"Good morning!" the man says brightly. "You must be Marius. Courfeyrac's told me about you. There's coffee in the pot if you want some, and forgive me for saying this, but you look like you need it," he smiles kindly and Marius stumbles over to the pot, pouring himself a cup and inhaling deeply. It clears his head at least a little and he opens his eyes fully, staring at the stranger.

"And, um, you are…"

"Oh, sorry! Courfeyrac said it was fine for me to come over but sometimes he forgets that he's not the only one living here anymore, I think. I'm Feuilly," he shrugs and goes back to drinking his coffee and Marius thinks that this still isn't very helpful when Courfeyrac sweeps in.

And yes, Courfeyrac entering a room is always a production, although if Marius looked like him and had the confidence and bravado that he had he'd probably enter rooms dramatically as well.

"You've met!" Courfeyrac's altogether too hyper for the state he should be in and he bounds over to grab some coffee for himself (even though caffeine is quite possibly the last thing he needs, Marius thinks) before sitting beside Feuilly at the bar. "Marius, this is Feuilly. He'll be here a lot so get used to seeing him."

"Are you a student?" Marius asks cautiously and Feuilly laughs bitterly.

"No. I wish. But I have no money, so the term 'starving artist' is pretty accurate where I'm concerned," there's a harshness to his voice that hadn't been there before and Courfeyrac shakes his head rapidly and mouths something that looks like, 'I'll tell you later' at Marius.

"So, did you have fun last night? I've never seen you that wasted," Courfeyrac abruptly changes the subject and leans back casually on his stool, one eyebrow raised.

"Um," Marius knows he's beet-red now and he stares at the floor, not sure if he should tell them what had really happened. He knows Courfeyrac will tease him incessantly, but it's probably better that they hear it from him rather than Enjolras…if Enjolras even  _remembers,_ but Marius doesn't want to take the chance that he might not. "I…might have made out with somebody."

"You might have," Courfeyrac snorts, grabbing Feuilly's cup from his hands and taking a sip, which prompts the other man to elbow him since, of course, his own cup of coffee is sitting right there. "My house, my cups," he replies smugly before setting it down. "What do you mean by 'might have'?"

"Okay," Marius sighs and slumps against the counter. "I…I  _did_ make out with somebody."

"Again, I'm not seeing the issue here. You were drunk, it was a party, that's what people  _do,"_ Courfeyrac stresses, like Marius can't figure this out by himself.

"I'm aware, but it…it's not…okay, you know there's been this…girl…"

"Yes, Cosette, the one you can't fucking shut up about," Courfeyrac leans his head on Feuilly's shoulder and the other man sighs. "Go on."

"Well. Yes. Yesterday she…sent me an e-mail saying that…her and her father are moving to England. Immediately. She didn't say why, just that they had to leave before the end of the weekend, and that it…that it was goodbye. I mean, it's not as if we'd done any more than talk now and again, but I  _know_ there was something there and now she's…she's gone," he feels a little choked up because Cosette had been…something special, somebody he could have made a real connection with, and now he'll never get the chance to.

"So, you were feeling sorry for yourself, got wasted, and made out with somebody. What's the problem? Do you know her?" Courfeyrac presses, looking more and more interested by the moment.

Marius takes a swig of his coffee and prepares himself for the shitstorm when he replies, "Yes. And it's a him."

"Well, then, what…" Courfeyrac pauses because it's finally sunk in, but then his eyes flash with something much too close to mischief for Marius' liking and he grins.

"Don't," Feuilly says it without even looking at the change in Courfeyrac's expression, which speaks volumes as to how well they know each other. "Just don't. Marius can tell us who it was if he wants to."

"Enjolras," he mutters, lowering his gaze, and he can hear a mild commotion that apparently is caused by Courfeyrac nearly falling off the barstool.

"You're fucking with me," the other man declares firmly, leaning forward and staring intently at Marius. "You're…you  _can't_ be serious, Enjolras is…Hell, I always thought he was asexual because even  _I_ couldn't get any reaction from him and you both know that if I so much as wink at somebody they'll be falling over themselves to get into bed with me," he puffs out his chest and Feuilly rolls his eyes, sharing a knowing glance with Marius since it's obvious both of them have heard this before. "Was he drunk?"

"Yes. Well, he wasn't sober, and by the time we realized that we were, um, shoving our tongues down each other's throats it got really awkward and he scares me, Courfeyrac, and I know I'll meet the rest of your friends and I don't want him thinking that…"

"Marius. Breathe," Feuilly instructs calmly and Marius does so, feeling himself start to calm down. "It's okay. Yes, it's…shocking to me as well, but honestly he's gorgeous so you should count yourself lucky."

"I just…I want to be okay with all of you. Not…forever some kind of outcast because I couldn't control myself…"

"Hey, if he was kissing back, he's as much at fault as you are," Courfeyrac's drinking Feuilly's coffee again and he finally nods and stands up. "Well, first things first, we need to see if _he_ remembers what went on, and if he doesn't, no harm done and we all move on, right?"

Marius nods, because that's what he really wants, even though from what he can remember it was…well, really good, but Enjolras isn't exactly dating material and it feels a little cheap to bounce to him just because things with Cosette didn't work out.

Never mind the fact he's a guy, which Marius is still trying to process but at least it hadn't gone farther than kissing.

"Okay. So I text Combeferre and get him to ask Enjolras when he wakes up, and we go from there," his phone's already out and he's texting furiously, so Marius doesn't even have a chance to stop him, but he slips it back into his pocket and goes back to sit.

"So we just wait?" Marius asked nervously, hands clutched around his cup, and Courfeyrac shrugs.

"Not much else we can do right now. Don't look so worried, Marius, I know that Enjolras can be, well, a little prickly, but he's not going to hurt you," he promises and Marius kind of has to believe him because, well, he doesn't know Enjolras that well.

"As…fascinating as this all is, I need to be off. I promised Jehan I'd help him do illustrations for some project he's working on," Feuilly finishes his coffee and sets the cup aside. "I'll call you later," he promises Courfeyrac, who groans and clutches his arm before he can move away.

"Stay. You're too nice to that boy."

"Because I actually get enjoyment from helping other people. You should try it sometime," Feuilly teases lightly, prying Courfeyrac's hands away from his arm before he moves into the kitchen. "It was lovely meeting you, Marius. I'm sure you'll see a lot of me around here over the next year."

"Same," Marius swallows and Feuilly reaches to pat his shoulder.

"If you won't believe him at least believe me: I've never had any problems with Enjolras. He's not that intimidating once you get to know him."

"Yes, but he  _adores_  you for some reason," Courfeyrac chimes in.

"He just admires people that work hard for what they've earned," Feuilly counters, nodding before he leaves the apartment, and Courfeyrac leans forward onto the bar and mumbles something against the countertop.

"What was that?" Marius asks, because being alone with Courfeyrac right now is kind of intimidating.

"I said," Courfeyrac picked himself up and stretched his arms above his head, "that I'm hungry, so go get dressed and I'll buy you breakfast. And you can tell me all about how good a kisser our dear Enjolras really is," he smirking devilishly again and Marius knows he's really got no choice.

And really, he's not going to turn down a free breakfast.

000

"Aspirin and water are on the countertop, don't expect me to keep quiet all day to compensate for your no-doubt aching head, and yes I am going to question you about this so get over here," is what he wakes up to, and it's not really in his nature, but he's more than tempted to throw a pillow across the room.

He should have known that if he was looking for sympathy after his bad decisions last night, Combeferre is  _not_ the man that will provide him with that.

Still.

"I hardly need to be mothered," his voice comes out raspy and hoarse, hardly assertive at all, and he clears his throat before stumbling out of bed (and oh, yeah, there's that headache) and over to the counter, downing the glass of water and the painkillers before he collapses in a chair at the kitchen table.

"I realize that, but I don't want you getting sick on my watch. Now talk," Combeferre looks up from where he's got about six textbooks scattered around, pushing his glasses up and folding his arms. The other man might not be all that physically intimidating on a regular basis, but Enjolras knows him well enough to know that he's a formidable person in his own right.

And he's not getting out of this one.

"I…you know how my parents are…well, mildly obsessive about my grades. Well, I got my last test back yesterday and let's just say that they won't be happy with the mark I got, so I…wanted to forget about everything for a while and I knew there was a party last night. It was a bad idea, so don't yell at me about it, but anything to stop my parents from riding me so hard seemed nice," he keeps staring at the table, his lips pursed as he tries to work through everything in his aching head.

"Was your mark  _that_ bad?" Combeferre looks honestly surprised. "I could have helped you study…"

"It wasn't. But it won't be good enough for them, and I just…I have no inclination to  _try_ anymore because this isn't what I want to do. I don't  _want_ to be a lawyer. I want to…make a difference, I want to…"

"You want to be an activist," Combeferre sighs because they've been through this several times before. "I know you want to change the world, Enjolras, but to do that you need money and you need influence, and much as I hate to admit it when I can see how much you dislike what you're doing right now, law is a good place to start. Nobody says you have to be a lawyer when it's all said and done, and your parents are paying your way through school…"

"I know," Enjolras holds up his hand to stop the tirade, because he's heard it several times already. "I do. And my marks are well above average, but they aren't perfect, and you know my parents expect perfection," he leans back and closes his eyes, fingers coming up to rub at his temples. "It won't happen again. Getting drunk isn't worth the pain that comes afterward."

"I'm glad you realize that…" Combeferre stops as his phone vibrates and he goes to check it, his eyes widening a little before his face takes on a more neutral expression and he clears his throat. "Did, ah, anything happen at the party?"

"Nothing especially noteworthy," Enjolras curses his pale skin because he knows he's probably a little red, but yes, he can remember making out with that boy…Courfeyrac's roommate…and he'd rather forget anything ever happened because it's only going to cause awkwardness in the future.

He doesn't know how it happened, but both of them had been in especially low spirits and somehow that and the alcohol had led them to the conclusion that kissing was the proper answer, although looking back at it in the daylight it hadn't been  _bad_ and Marius was really very handsome.

Still, he doesn't do relationships or matters of the heart, so it's best to leave it be.

"Nothing about you and Courfeyrac's…"

"Yes, okay, it happened," Enjolras snaps, immediately feeling bad because Combeferre looks taken aback. "I'm sorry. It happened. I'd rather not think about it anymore because I've admitted that last night was a mistake that I won't be repeating," he tries to sound as firm as possible because he knows damn well that text is from Courfeyrac and the other man's not likely to let this go.

"Okay," Combeferre is about as interested in romance as he himself is, after all, so he drops the topic easily and sets his phone aside without replying. "Are you feeling up for a little breakfast, or…"

And Enjolras drops his head on the table again because from the way his stomach lurches at the mere  _thought_ of food the answer is definitely an emphatic 'no.'

He is  _never_  drinking again.


	2. Chapter 2

"Should you get that?" Jehan asks as his phone goes off again for about the fifth time in the last two minutes. "I mean, if it's important, we can take a break…."

"It's fine," Feuilly debates turning his phone off but knowing Courfeyrac he'd probably come over to make sure he's getting the messages and he doesn't need that right now. "It's not important."

"Is this about the party last night?" Jehan stops from where he's pacing and sits down beside the other man, leaning on his shoulder as he stares at what he's sketching. "That looks really good. Thank you again for helping me out with this. I might be adequate at the writing portions of the course, but I think having hand-drawn slides instead of pulling stock photos off of google will give me an edge in the presentation."

"I'm happy to," Feuilly assures him, because really, being useful is something that he enjoys doing. They both start as Jehan's own phone vibrates and he reaches to grab it, frowning as he flicks it on and then off again. "Courfeyrac?"

"What's this about his roommate and Enjolras…"

"I knew he'd still be on about that," Feuilly sighs. "Yes, it's true, but I don't know why he won't let it go. Marius wants to and I'm pretty sure Enjolras could care less," he tucks his pencil behind his ear and stares down at the sketchpad as Jehan starts damn near vibrating beside him. "What is it?"

"Don't you see? This has all the makings of a romantic story! A tale of…"

Feuilly sighs and lets him go off, hands gesturing wildly and a light in his eyes that's only there when he starts talking about love and it's oddly endearing although Feuilly's seen too much of the real world to ever lose himself in fantasies the way Jehan does. "You know it's not like that."

"But it could be," the young poet counters, rifling for some papers and grabbing a pen before he starts scribbling something out. "It just could be."

Feuilly bites his lip and looks back down, wondering just what they've all gotten themselves into with this.

Because Courfeyrac's not going to let it go. That's one thing he knows for sure.

000

"So what's the plan?"

Combeferre nearly drops his textbook as Courfeyrac bounds up, all insatiable energy and expectant eyes, and he knows ignoring him won't do any good. "There is no plan. Enjolras doesn't want to think about it anymore, and from what you've told me, Marius did it as some…grief response to his crush moving away. If neither of them want to turn this into anything more than a drunken mistake, I see no reason why we should be interfering," he knows that the other man's not going to back down but the less involved he is in whatever crazy scheme Courfeyrac's bound to come up with, the better.

"You're not any fun," Courfeyrac actually pouts at him as he merely shrugs and goes back to studying. "I'm serious! Between you and Feuilly…"

"You have to know that, aside from Enjolras, Feuilly and I are the two people who are going to care the least about whatever matchmaking shenanigans you're trying to pull," he pulls another textbook over and starts working on a new assignment. "They obviously don't want to take this any farther, and I think as their friend you'd respect that."

"I think as their friend I'd realize that this is something that could be really good for both of them so I should help it come true in whatever way possible," Courfeyrac counters, and Combeferre can tell that he's not going to give up.

"Then go ahead," he shrugs. "But if you're looking to Feuilly and myself for help you're probably out of luck."

"Both of you have no concept of romance," Courfeyrac snorts but Combeferre can tell that he's hardly all that annoyed. "I'll find somebody that'll agree with me…"

"Mm-hmm," Combeferre murmurs, jotting down a few notes (honestly, sometimes he wonders if he's half-crazy taking medicine and philosophy both, but as long as he has time and quiet to work it's usually not problematic).

"I  _will,"_  Courfeyrac says it as if he expects Combeferre to challenge him, but the other man doesn't take the bait and instead goes back to taking notes, leaving Courfeyrac shifting uneasily beside him as he quickly gets bored. "Well, I'll see you later. I'm sure  _somebody_ will appreciate what I'm trying to do!"

And he's out of the room in a flash, leaving Combeferre to nod and continue working on his assignments.

He'll never understand how the other man's brain works, after all.

000

"So you had fun last night."

Enjolras looks up as a pretty girl drops into the seat across from him, unslinging her bag from her shoulder and crossing her legs. "Did Courfeyrac tell  _everybody?"_

"No. Well, he did, but he didn't need to, because I witnessed it with my own two eyes, and you and that boy of his? Hot," she smirks, tossing her hair over her shoulder as Enjolras tries to figure out what to say.

He's never been great around women, because most of them stare at him as if he's something they're going to devour, and quite frankly it's intimidated him to the point where he doesn't know quite what to say. But Musichetta is different, incredibly liberal and intelligent and brimming with beauty and confidence in a way that makes it easier to think of her as less a woman and more just another  _person._

Of course, the fact that she's not interested in him romantically is somewhat of a plus, but since she's got two men already (by all accounts) he's fairly sure she has no complaints in that department.

"You were there?" he realizes what she's said and looks at her more closely as she nods.

"Mm-hmm. For part of it, anyway. How far did it go?"

"It didn't," Enjolras waves a hand in a quick motion. "We realized what was going on and that was it. And that's all it ever will be, except Courfeyrac's apparently decided to make life hard for all of us by not letting it go."

"Is that…such a bad thing?" she looks honestly curious and Enjolras has to think on that for a moment.

"In that I have issues with him taking a vested interest in my personal life? Yes," he finally decides on, because anything else is getting in too deep and, well, he doesn't owe anybody an explanation.

"No, honestly," she leans forward. "Enjolras, I know you have some…reservations about talking to girls, and I get it, but you can trust that I'm not going to start swooning over you," she laughs brightly. "You're very attractive and people notice, but that's something you're always going to have to deal with."

He gives her a half-smile and doesn't respond, because yes, he's aware of his appearance, but unlike Courfeyrac who seems to use his looks to lure people into his bed he's never quite seen the appeal of being considered some kind of sexual object.

"But that's not the point of this," she steers away from that subject abruptly. "The point is, even if Courfeyrac's out of line, is getting to know Marius really such a horrible thing? I mean, you must think he's good looking…"

"He is," Enjolras says without preamble, because it's not as if it's a secret. "He is, but I'm not the type of person to…get sexually involved with somebody I don't know,"

"So get to know him," she says as if it's the most obvious response in the world. "It's not like it'd be hard. He lives with Courfeyrac, after all, and you're over there enough anyway that there's no harm in seeing if you get along as friends and if there's still that something more…" she clicks her tongue and he's forced to admit that she has a point.

He won't say that to her yet, though, so he just shrugs non-committally and asks, "So why were you at the party last night? It seemed to be more of a singles crowd and you're, well, not," he has to point out and she laughs.

"Well, true enough, but I needed to get out. I don't know what Joly and Bossuet have been arguing about for the past two days but it's getting on my last nerve and I swear if I didn't know better I'd think  _they_ were the ones that were dating," she smiles thinly and shrugs her shoulders. "And I heard about the party and figured it was as good a place as any to spend a few hours, so I went. But speaking of those two…" she digs out her phone and sighs. "They want me to come back and settle whatever argument they've got going on so I'd better do that before this turns into an even bigger thing. You're coming tonight?" she asks quickly and Enjolras shrugs, because yes, Saturday is their typical night to go out to a nearby nightclub, but after last night he doesn't even want to  _look_ at alcohol.

Still, if he doesn't go, somebody will no doubt come and drag him there, so maybe it's better to just bite the bullet.

"Probably," he doesn't want to commit but she nods anyway and scoops up her bag.

"I'll see you then. Hopefully with whatever those idiots are having an issue with resolved," she throws over her shoulder as she walks away, and Enjolras drops his head onto the table and thinks that even though she's probably right about Marius, that doesn't mean he's going to do anything.

000

"Hey, c'mere."

Marius looks up to where the voice is coming from, seeing a man who looks a little too old for the typical university crowd. He's got a faded leather jacket on and a cigarette clenched between his fingers, smoke trails lazily drifting up into the sky and Marius is, quite frankly, a little intimidated.

"You're Pontmercy, right?" the man presses and Marius nods quickly because he doesn't think lying will do him any good. "I'm Bahorel. Courfeyrac may have mentioned me," he grins and smokes for a while, leaving Marius deep in thought.

Because yes, Courfeyrac had, and mostly what he knew of Bahorel was that he didn't always run in the…well, best circles, but he was a fine enough person on his own.

"Don't look so scared, man," Bahorel laughs. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just…didn't think it was possible anybody could get Enjolras to actually kiss them, so I feel like I should be congratulating you," he smirks and Marius blushes because honestly, did Courfeyrac tell  _everybody?_

"Well, I…" Marius stammers, and the other man thankfully shakes his head.

"I'm really not that concerned about his love life, don't worry. I mostly wanted to ask you what you were doing tonight?" his smile is congenial but his tone strongly implies that he's about to  _tell_ Marius what he's doing tonight.

"I don't really have any plans, but…"

"Come to the  _Musain,"_ Bahorel says quickly and Marius blinks at him. "You know it?"

"The nightclub?" the younger man asks, because yes, he knows it's close to the campus and Courfeyrac's talked about going there before, but he's never been himself. "I don't…"

"We'll all be there. Mostly. And since you live with Courfeyrac and you'll be around you might as well hang out with us. Just tell the bouncer you're with me and he won't card you or charge you cover or anything. Perks of knowing a lot of people," he smirks and goes back to smoking as Marius tries to process this. "You can trust me. I know that some of the guys I spend time with are…well, not the most model citizens, but do you really think Enjolras would be letting me hang around with all of you if I was a bad person?" he raises an eyebrow and Marius has to admit that he has a point.

"No, but…"

"He'll be there, too. Probably," Bahorel winks now and Marius smiles weakly as he makes his exit, not sure what else they could have to talk about. He's back at home before he realizes it, rooting through his closet for something suitable to wear to a nightclub, and it only hits him then that he's not sure if Enjolras being there is something that's enticing him to go or something that's telling him to stay far away.


	3. Chapter 3

The club is loud. He should probably have expected that, seeing as how the lineup to get in was long and he'd been a little nervous pushing his way to the front but one mention of Bahorel's name and he was being ushered in, his coat left at the coat check as he glances around and tries to find somebody… _anybody…_ he recognizes. He tries to scope things out, standing on his tiptoes to see over the masses, and spots a couple people he knows at one of the tables in the back.

Pushing through the crowd isn't easy, either, and he drops into the seat beside Courfeyrac gratefully as the man turns to grin at him. "You made it! Big crowd tonight!"

"I can tell!" Marius all but yells back, because that's the only way to be heard.

"Look, go to the bar and get a drink and then come back. We'll still be here," he points to himself and Feuilly as the man in question looks up and sighs, nudging Courfeyrac with his elbow. "Oh, for fuck's sake, somebody has to sit that boy down and teach him how  _not_ to look like jailbait."

Marius follows his eyes and sees a young man making his way over, wearing clothing that Marius isn't even sure how he thought they would work together and there's something delicate and almost effeminate about his appearance, his arms crossed across his chest as he slinks his way through the crowd.

"I'll look after him," Feuilly promises, sitting back and holding what looks like a regular glass of water between his hands. "Jehan, come over here!"

"Hi!" Jehan walks faster and slides in beside Feuilly, one arm slung across his shoulders as he gets settled. "You're Marius?"

"Yes," Marius nods, because Jehan seems a little…detached, but he's sure he's a nice person.

"Jehan Prouvaire. I'm glad to finally meet you!" Jehan holds out a hand and Marius shakes it, surprised by the other man's firm grip. "And you both know I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," Courfeyrac looks like he's about to say more so Marius excuses himself and heads for the bar, deciding to stick to drinks without alcohol especially after last night. He's just gotten his Coke and is about to take a sip when the man beside him reaches to touch his arm.

"So you're the one," the man who's spoken looks drunk already, his eyes bloodshot and he's slumped half-over the bar like he can't sit upright anymore. "The one who he…I never thought he'd…he's so…"

"Um…hi?" Marius squeaks, because he's not sure he could be any more lost in this conversation, but he nearly ends up spilling his drink all over himself when he's all but tackled from behind.

"Marius! I didn't think you'd come!"

"Hi?" he says again, feeling more than a little idiotic but he's overloading on meeting people at the moment even though he knows Bossuet well enough. He'd been the first one he'd met, really, and while Courfeyrac had swept in and offered him a room at his place, he still quite likes the other man even though he's more than a little dangerous to be around.

Which is why he sets his drink on the bar before he turns back. "Ignore him," Bossuet slings an arm over his shoulders and jerks his thumb toward the drunken man at the bar. "That's Grantaire, and he's morose at the best of times, but when he's properly drunk you're just going to end up depressed if you talk to him," he turns Marius around and waves to another man and a rather pretty woman who are making their way over.

"I still can't believe you took his side!" the man is saying, sounding a little distressed and frowning as the woman hangs onto his arm and rolls her eyes.

"I took his side because he's  _right,_ and you worry too much, and we do  _not_ need that much disinfectant in our home because all of those chemicals are probably worse for you than germs will ever be," she pats his arm before letting go of him. "Marius?"

"Yes?"

"Musichetta. And that grump over there is Joly, but ignore him, he's in a foul mood because apparently one of my duties as his girlfriend is to always agree with him," she's teasing and Marius can tell but Joly blushes and sputters and looks down at the sticky, drink-stained surface of the bar before wrinkling his nose and firmly jamming his hands in his pockets. "You look overwhelmed," she comments and he has to laugh.

"I am. A little. There are a lot of you," he says rather bluntly but she only nods in agreement.

"You should go back to the table, though. I mean, I'm guessing the reason you came is…" she gestures and Marius looks over to see that Enjolras and Combeferre are there now, and he's really starting to regret showing up just to see Enjolras when he could have gone over to his place.

Still. No good backing out now.

"Right. I'll…I'm going," he takes his drink and heads back to the table, and the others all look up as he comes near. Combeferre nods his head and Marius smiles in return. He doesn't know the other man all that well but at least they've met before, and he seems fairly rational and, well,  _normal_  compared to some of the others he's met over the last day.

"Well, no use sitting here all night, not when I can find a girl to take home," Courfeyrac stretches his arms over his head and runs his hands through his hair, messing it up just enough to look deliberate. "Wish me luck. And, um…" he looks at Feuilly and shrugs. "I mean, you can come over if you want, but…"

"He can stay with me," Jehan says immediately, smiling at the other man. "It's not a problem."

"Okay. Good," Courfeyrac throws them all a salute and heads off onto the dance floor as Combeferre mutters something about asking Joly a question relating to some assignment or other and slips off the bench.

"You don't have to…"

"It's  _fine,"_ Jehan cuts Feuilly off and gives Marius a smile. "I don't know how much they've told you, but his place…it's rough on weekends."

"I don't think I've spent a Friday or Saturday night there where I haven't been woken up by yelling and bottles breaking and sirens," Feuilly grimaces and Marius wants to learn more again but now's not really the best time for it. "Still, I don't want to impose…"

"You said you'd look after me tonight, right?" Jehan hops up and holds out his hand. "Dance with me. We'll call it even."

"I don't…okay," Feuilly sighs but takes the poet's hand and lets him lead him out onto the dance floor, and Marius would protest because it's fairly obvious that the others have cleared out just to leave him alone with Enjolras except now he's  _alone with Enjolras_ and he's kind of freaking out a little.

"How much do you know about him?" Enjolras jerks his head toward the others and Marius wonders at the odd topic of conversation before realizing that, probably, it's easier to talk about anything  _but_ what happened last night. And since he's interested anyway, he might as well satisfy his curiosity.

"Feuilly? Not much at all. Just that Courfeyrac seems rather jealous that you seem to respect him," he smiles and Enjolras gives him the tiniest smile in return before he clears his throat.

"Well, that has less to do with Feuilly's background as the fact that Courfeyrac seems to have made it his life's goal to annoy me at every given moment, but Feuilly's…his parents died a long time ago, he's never been really open about the details, and I guess his elderly grandmother raised him until her death when he was sixteen or so. He didn't really want to be put into the system at that age so he dropped out of high school and started painting and, well, everything he has he's made for himself. And yes, I respect that, but despite life dealing him the shittiest hand possible he doesn't let it get to him," he's smiling almost fondly now and Marius tries to process everything because no, looking at Feuilly and listening to him you wouldn't know that he has almost nothing.

There's silence, then, because the inevitable topic has to come up now that they've talked about other people, and Enjolras finally clears his throat and asks, "So what about you? I have to admt that I don't know much about you other than who you live with and that you're also in law school."

"Me? Well, um, I'm…this sounds really selfish after hearing about Feuilly, but…my grandfather is…a little controlling and he wants my life to take a certain path, and I don't…want to be in debt to him forever. So I'm trying to do what I can on my own, but…"

"Having a fallback plan isn't anything to be ashamed of, Marius," Enjolras says gently. "God knows Jehan and I especially are being put through school entirely on family money, the others are a mix of family and what they've earned by themselves, but wanting to provide for your own future is admirable," he promises. "You want to be a lawyer?"

"I think I'd be good at it," Marius juts his chin out and tries to sound as confident as he can. "And at least it's something that my grandfather will be…he'll give me money if I ask for it."

He gets an almost appraising nod in return and there's that awkward silence again, so he sips at his drink until he knows that he has to ask. "S-so…um…about last night…"

"Look," Enjolras turns to him fully and God, he really  _is_ gorgeous, but Marius tries not to stare and nods in recognition. "It happened. We both…that is…it's not something I… _do,_ really, but it happened, and I know that Courfeyrac won't let go of it but if you want to, I'm fine with that," his voice is fairly emotionless, but Marius can tell that he's not being exactly truthful.

"Well, I thought…I mean, if you wanted to…not that we have to…but we could be friends, right?" he knows he sounds kind of pathetic but, like Bahorel had said, since he's going to be hanging around with them all regardless it would be better to not have some sort of awkward rift with Enjolras.

"Of course," Enjolras replies smoothly, sitting back and crossing his legs, and Marius can tell that he doesn't want to talk about it anymore but…well, he knows the other man is hard to get to, and maybe it's a good start to just agree to friendship for now.

His drink is empty, though, so he stands up and grabs the glass with shaking fingers as he asks, "I'm going to get a refill. Do you want something?"

"Whatever you're having. I'm guessing there's no alcohol after last night?" he arches an eyebrow and Marius has to laugh.

"No, definitely…no," he nods and makes his exit, scurrying over to the bar and placing the order as he waits for the bartender to come back.

"I wish he'd talk to me like that," Grantaire is semi-conscious and giving Marius a bleary look, and Marius can tell that there's a story there but he's not sure if it's his place to ask or not. "Consider yourself lucky," he gets a tiny smile and he thinks that means that he's got approval of some sort, but the drinks are placed in front of him and he just nods at the other man before making his exit.

000

Enjolras watches him go and is grateful for the momentary reprieve, because talking to Marius is...almost too easy, and that frightens him a little because he's not  _open_ or okay with admitting much of anything, but Marius is just…young and innocent and trusting and so naïve that it's refreshing, caught up in dreams of romance and happiness almost as far-fetched as Jehan's fantasies often are, but there's also something else about him, something in his eyes when he'd talked about stepping out of his grandfather's shadow, a fierce determination that's attractive by virtue of it being so full of conviction.

He's so lost in thought that he only registers the hand on his thigh when it's been there for far too long, and his eyes snap up to take in the dark-haired girl who's slid into the booth next to him, far too close and he can feel his throat closing up as he tries to say something to her.

"Your friends leave you all alone? That's not nice of them," her fingers are idly tracing patterns on his pants and he looks up for somebody… _anybody…_ that can bail him out, but nobody's even looking in his direction. "What do you say? Since they don't seem to care, why don't we leave them and have our own fun?" she's far too close now, breathing almost in his ear, and it should be  _so easy_ to just tell her no, to get her to back off, but once again he's seemingly incapable of replying.

"Hey!" Marius sounds strained as he gets back to the table and sets the drinks down, his eyes seeking out Enjolras' and seemingly asking for permission that Enjolras is all too willing to give with a shaky jerk of his head. The song that the DJ is playing changes over and Marius leans in on the other side of the booth and says, "I love this song! Dance with me?"

And it might not be the greatest out he's ever seen, but Marius is  _trying,_ bless him, and it's better than having some girl crawling all over him so he nods and slides out of the booth with a muttered 'excuse me' in her direction, feeling her eyes on him as he walks stiffly onto the floor and Marius follows.

He's not really self-conscious; most of the people in the  _Musain_ are drunk already and it's not as if there's really any discrimination against two people of the same sex dancing together, but it's not something he's… _done_ before, and while normally he's graceful and sure he's feeling rather awkward at the moment.

"Hey," Marius looks at him expectantly. "We don't have to…I mean…just…" he moves forward slowly and lets his arms slide around the other man's neck, smiling weakly. Enjolras moves on instinct, his hands gripping the younger man's hips and pulling him closer, and Marius sighs as if he was afraid of how Enjolras would react.

"I'm not that scary, am I?" Enjolras laughs, feeling a little unsure as he tries to move to the beat, and Marius shrugs.

"No, I just…friends, right? We're trying that?" he leaves the fact that slow-dancing together isn't really something two male friends do unspoken, but Enjolras gets it.

"We are. But I appreciate you getting me out of that situation, so this is fine," he promises, and it's almost…nice, to be close to somebody who's not going to judge him or look for him to be anything other than what he is.

"Okay. Good," Marius nods and presses closer because the floor is getting kind of crowded. "Do you, um, want to get coffee tomorrow? Or something? As friends?" he sounds embarrassed to be asking but Enjolras nods in agreement.

"Coffee sounds nice. Just…ask Courfeyrac for my number and give me a time and place."

"Great," Marius smiles a little too wide and a little too forced, but it's not strange between them anymore and he's grateful for that.

He's not sure what this is, or if Marius is even thinking it could be more than friendship, but at least it's  _something_ and it could be good.

And that's all he really needs right now.


	4. Chapter 4

Courfeyrac wakes up feeling sated and happy, nuzzling into his pillow and noting that he's alone in the bed (meaning that the girl he'd brought home has already left) which is probably preferable. He knows that his lifestyle isn't exactly something that people should model themselves on, and he thinks he's getting better, but there are still times when he just…needs something else, as shallow as that sounds.

He glances up again when a knock comes on the door and grumbles something that Marius apparently takes as a 'come in' because that's what he does, wrinkling his nose as he hovers in the doorway. "What is it?"

"Um, Enjolras…he told me to ask you for his phone number because I'm supposed to meet him for coffee today," Marius is staying in the doorway but the words wake Courfeyrac up and he sits up excitedly.

"You've got a date?" he asks, clasping his hands, and Marius shrugs.

"Not a date, just going out for coffee. As friends," he clarifies and Courfeyrac snorts.

"Friends. Yes. I saw you dancing last night…"

"Because he was getting mauled by girls and I couldn't think of another way to get him out of there. Besides, Feuilly and Jehan were dancing and I don't see you accusing them of hiding some secret romance," he replies, looking a little grumpy, and Courfeyrac has to chuckle at that.

"They're not. I know that for a fact. But you and Enjolras…"

"Can I get his phone number?

"C'mere," Courfeyrac holds out a hand and Marius hesitantly steps into the room, squeaking when Courfeyrac grabs his wrist and pulls him down onto the bed. "Lemme get my phone…" he reaches over onto the nightstand and grabs it, scrolling through until he's got the number and he holds it out to Marius.

"I don't know how I feel about sitting on your bed when I know you…last night…you were loud," Marius says bluntly and Courfeyrac snorts, because  _he_ wasn't loud, but the girl he'd brought home…

"Is this a subtle way of telling me I need to re-think my love life?"

"I'm not judging you," Marius is frowning, turning his phone over in his hand before he replies. "I just…don't see the appeal in…what you do, I guess."

"Marius," Courfeyrac sits up and hugs the other man from behind, chin hooked over his shoulder. "Not everybody views love and sex like you and Jehan do, with puppies and rainbows and flowers…" he laughs as Marius swats at him. "For me? It's fun. It feels good. I'm not looking for anything more than that, and as long as we both want it, that's all that matters."

"I guess," Marius sighs and shrugs his shoulders. "I just..."

"You don't get it. I understand," Courfeyrac frowns even though Marius can't see him because he  _knows_ the other man's got a point and it's something that's been niggling at his own mind for a while now. But he brushes those thoughts aside for the time being. "Now go, go have coffee with Enjolras and fall in love and do all those sappy things you're so fond of."

"I'm not…we're just  _friends!"_ Marius protests and Courfeyrac laughs.

"Right now, maybe, but that will change. Trust me," he lets Marius go and the other man hops off the bed, passing his phone back.

"Thanks. For the number," he adds before making his exit, and Courfeyrac flops back against the pillows and turns his head to the side, his phone cradled to his chest.

Marius might be clueless at the best of times, but when it comes to other people he's surprisingly astute.

Now Courfeyrac just needs to figure out what exactly he's going to do with that realization.

000

"Where are you off to?"

"Do we need to have the conversation again where I remind you that you are not, in fact, my mother?" Enjolras grabs his wallet from the countertop and sticks it into his pocket, his eyes roving to the table.

"I know I'm not," Combeferre is frowning down at some papers and Joly looks between the two of them, feeling the tension in the air and wondering if this is a conversation that happens often. "I'm just…"

"For coffee with Marius, if you must know," Enjolras sniffs and heads for the door, barely sparing them a glance before he leaves.

"Do you think…" Joly starts before falling quiet, not sure if it's his place to ask. Yes, they all seem to be getting…fairly invested in this whole situation, but it's not in his nature to meddle and he's pretty sure Combeferre feels the same way.

"I think that…whatever this is, it's good for them as long as they want it and they're not doing it just to get Courfeyrac off their backs," Combeferre says slowly, like he's thinking it all out in his head before he speaks. "That being said, I don't think they are, and God knows Enjolras wouldn't do anything just to make Courfeyrac happy anyway."

"He'd probably do the opposite," Joly smiles thinly and then sighs before closing his textbook. "I still can't believe 'Chetta sided with Bossuet over me."

"You and I both know that you're way too serious about your own health," Combeferre chuckles and Joly rolls his eyes because yes, he knows, but it's not exactly something he can help. Better safe than sorry, after all. "And you and I both know that a few germs aren't going to kill you, but living in some sort of…sterile bubble probably will as soon as you get exposed to something else."

"I know, but I just…sometimes I wonder who's actually dating who at our place," he shrugs and sees Combeferre lift an eyebrow as if he doesn't want to think on it too much, and Joly realizes he can't exactly blame him. What they have would be looked down upon by a lot…okay, probably by  _most_ people, but the way he sees it, as long as it works for all of them there's nothing fundamentally wrong with it.

And Musichetta is still his girlfriend. He thinks.

"Back to your question, though, no matter how much he'd love to spite Courfeyrac, I don't think Enjolras would ever do anything that  _he_ doesn't want to do, so I can only assume that he does want to…have some sort of relationship with Marius, but I don't…" he pauses like he's unsure if he should continue, but Joly has an inkling of what he's about to say regardless.

"Marius is straight. Presumably. You're worried that…that because Enjolras has no experience with…dating of any kind that he might assume there's something more there than what's really true?" he guesses, and he can tell he's right by the slight shrug of Combeferre's shoulders he gets in return.

"I don't think Enjolras is ever the type to allow himself to be emotionally compromised, it's just not in his nature, but I still worry. Especially because I don't know Marius that well…" he does look concerned and Joly knows that he and Enjolras have been as close as brothers for longer than most of the rest of them have known each other, but the other man does tend to get a little… _too_ protective.

"Sexuality in general is a lot more fluid than most people want to admit. Trust me," he says firmly, because he certainly knows that to be true. "Besides, Enjolras is…"

"Yes, I think the fact he exists at  _all_  causes people to be attracted to him," Combeferre replies with a small chuckle. "I know I worry too much."

"You do. And that's coming from  _me,"_ Joly stresses, shaking his hand out because it's fallen asleep and that's probably not normal since he's barely written anything but he's promised himself he's going to start worrying less about the strange little quirks his body has.

Even though this one is probably life-threatening.

"Okay. I'll let him…make his own way on this one," Combeferre nods firmly as if this decides it for himself and then goes back to his textbook, and Joly flexes his fingers and wonders if it would be too paranoid of him to look up his symptoms online.

000

Enjolras gets to the coffee shop about five minutes later than he's supposed to. He's not normally one to not be on-time, but the last thing he needs is to be sitting there letting his brain spiral in directions that would only be detrimental to his emotional state because as it is, nothing about this is normal for him.

He doesn't date. He doesn't get emotionally involved with people. He certainly doesn't look forward to idle social interaction and gossip, but here he is, willingly getting coffee with another man for no reason other than that he almost wants to.

He sees Marius seated at a table near the window, looking nervous, and nods to him as he heads up to the counter and orders just a regular coffee, knowing it would be impolite to not drink anything seeing as how they  _are_ in a coffee shop.

Dropping into the seat, he clears his throat and crosses his legs, attempting to look as casual as possible as Marius smiles at him. "Hey," he sounds nervous, too, which at least is reassuring.

There's something different about talking in the harsh daylight of a coffee shop than in the raucous, semi-darkness of a crowded club, something that feels far more personal and far harder to hide.

"Hello," he says, hands wrapped around his cup as he thinks of a way to start this whole thing off. "Thank you again for last night. You hardly needed to…"

"You looked uncomfortable," Marius laughs, looking away and shrugging. "I mean, maybe it wasn't the best way to…get her to leave you alone, but…"

"It worked. No harm done," Enjolras assures him, because he gets the feeling that Marius is, well, a little awkward and unsure, and it's probably better to let him know these things.

"Good. So, um, tell me about you? I mean, we talked about me last night and I think you know…pretty much everything you need to, but you're…I don't know much about you, and the others all seem kind of scared to talk about you when you're not there," he laughs shortly and Enjolras has to snort because, honestly, he's  _not_ that terrifying and he's not quite sure what he's done to instill this fear in people.

"That's probably because I'm boring more than anything," he sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before starting to talk, still hesitant to reveal too much but everything he's going to say is fairly common knowledge around the University, at least. "I come from old money, a good family name, and my place in this school was pretty much assured from the second I was born. And that…that bothers me, a little, because…" he pauses and bites his lip.

He thinks he can trust Marius. He  _knows_ that Courfeyrac thinks the world of the boy and, really, the more the merrier when it comes to trying to make a difference. Plus, from what Marius has said, he's one of those that would benefit from a few changes being made,

"Well, you might not know how the…inner workings of this place run, but a lot of it  _is_  based on family name and as long as you've got an in somehow, you're pretty much guaranteed a spot in whatever program you desire. A lot of the students attending here don't care about marks because they're essentially irrelevant: they didn't need to try in high school, they don't need to try in college, they'll graduate and get a job in whatever company their parents are a part of, and they're set for life.

"Of course, there are those of us who want to get decent grades despite the fact that we could skate through easily, and there are those of us that think a proper chance should be awarded to everybody and the people that are most skilled should be accepted over who was born into the right family, but as you can imagine…a lot of people rather like the fact that they don't have to try, so support for changing things is rather…slim, and there'd have to be a lot of us before anybody on the board would propose a change in the way things are run," he finishes, and he sees Marius nod thoughtfully as the boy sips at his own coffee.

"So that's why you have all these meetings that Courfeyrac's always running off to?" he asks with a smile and Enjolras laughs.

"We've been planning for a while but we need to go about this the right way. I just think that placement should be based solely on merit so that everybody is starting on the same foot, and that if the school offered more scholarships to people that normally would have a problem paying for University, everything would be far more equal. That is, people like yourself and especially…"

"Feuilly," Marius supplies. "I certainly see your point, and I'd definitely not turn down a bit of extra money to help pay my way through school," he laughs. "I mean, of course I agree, but I also think you're going to have a hard time getting enough people to. It's kind of sad, but a lot of people seem to want to do as little as possible in life."

"True enough," Enjolras sighs heavily and thinks for a few moments. "There's one man on the board that's on our side, but he's…old is putting it kindly, and a lot of the younger people seem to disregard anything he says because of his age. Once he's gone, though, it'll be much harder to get any support, and it might be a lost cause, but…" he shrugs, because admitting defeat is certainly not in his nature, but Marius is giving him an encouraging smile.

"It doesn't hurt to try," the other man supplies for him, and Enjolras sits back to realize that quite a bit of time has already passed.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about politics when we're…"

"It's fine!" Marius waves a hand idly. "Really. I mean, it's…nice to be included, I've never really…had this in my life. A real group of friends, that is. So I'm not complaining," he promises, and Enjolras feels a little better about taking up his time. "I just…you're passionate about it, and I want to learn as much as I can so I don't mind at all," he sounds honest and Enjolras can't do much but believe him, so he does.

"Okay," he nods firmly as Marius' phone buzzes and the younger man gives him an apologetic glance before picking it up and sighing.

"Sorry, it's…"

"Courfeyrac? You'd better go, I know that he'll keep pestering you if you don't," Enjolras rolls his eyes because he knows that all too well, in fact.

"I told him that I was…out for coffee," Marius stutters over the words like he was going to say something else, and Enjolras works through that in his brain. Was this a date? No, not really, just two friends grabbing coffee, there wasn't anything particularly date-like about it.

But he supposes to some people two guys who don't know each other that well going out for an afternoon might seem like a date.

He's not going to think about it that way, though, because that opens too many doors that he doesn't want to consider right now.

"Well, ah, we can…do this again sometime?" Marius looks hopeful and scared all at once and Enjolras nods simply.

"I'd like that. I'll try to keep the conversation lighter."

Marius smiles and picks up his cup, nodding sharply before heading out of the shop, and Enjolras leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling.

He doesn't know if they've made any progress, really, but he still wants to spend more time with Marius and all things considered, that's a pretty good sign.


	5. Chapter 5

"Spill," Courfeyrac is on him before he's even fully inside the apartment and he jumps a little, seeing the other man's expectant face. "What happened? Are you dating? Did he try to rope you into joining our little project?"

"Nothing, no, and yes," Marius says quickly, hanging up his coat before going to sit on one of the barstools. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Enjolras," Courfeyrac drops down beside him and spins around idly. "He's pretty picky about who knows about his grand scheme, really, and he's the one that has to decide if you're worth trusting. Which, he has, so this is good," the other man assures him, clapping his shoulder. "But that's not what I want to hear about…"

"Honestly, all we talked about was this…what he wants for the University and how hard it's going to be to make any headway on it. We didn't even talk about…us, or what happened, or where it goes from here. I mean, he said he wanted to hang out again, but…" Marius shrugs, because to him that doesn't sound like much of anything, but Courfeyrac's bouncing in his seat.

"Marius, look at me," the other man urges, turning Marius toward him and gripping his upper arms. "Enjolras doesn't 'hang out' with people. Ever. He barely  _tolerates_  people most of the time. So the fact that he  _wants_ to spend time with you? That's huge," he says confidently and Marius knows he's blushing a little as he nods and averts his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed. God, I think almost everybody on the campus wishes that Enjolras would pay that much attention to them, and you've got it, so cherish it," he pats the other man on the shoulder again and turns away, spinning around once more.

"I mean, I still don't know…what I want from this. I'm not…" Marius stops and sighs, looking down at the countertop because that's the real question in all of this.

Isn't it?

"So…" Courfeyrac finally stops spinning and turns to Marius, more serious than he usually is. "You kind of need to figure that out."

"I  _know,"_ Marius sighs. "It's just…I spend my whole life thinking I'm straight and then I have…what, one drunken make-out session with a guy that I like enough as a friend, but I don't know if I could ever…you know…go farther, and I have no idea what he expects from me," he adds and Courfeyrac narrows his eyes. "What?"

"Isn't that…I would have thought that would be the first thing you kids would talk about," his tone is lightly teasing but Marius can tell he's honestly asking.

"I think we've both been avoiding it because it's…a little awkward," he's still trying to not meet the other man's gaze, his eyes cast down as he realizes that he doesn't exactly  _know_ why Enjolras is avoiding that particular conversation, except that it's…well, he knows the other man enough to know that he doesn't open up easily, so that's probably why.

"Well, whenever you have it and if you decide…you know…that you want to go a little farther than just kissing, I want you to know that I will be here to give you the best advice possible," he holds a hand over his heart and the utter sombreness of the gesture has Marius snorting before he realizes something.

"What…I mean, we're not…why…"

"You and Enjolras are both so  _virginal,"_ Courfeyrac wrinkles his nose as if this is some sort of crime. "I mean, if I leave you two alone you'll never get anything done, so…"

"No, not that, just…you sleep with girls. I don't think…it doesn't exactly…" he stops when Courfeyrac starts to laugh and stops to glare at him. "What?"

"I sleep with…okay, yes, that's true, but I don't…it's not…I'm not  _exclusive,_ you know?" he shrugs, looking completely unconcerned and Marius has to blink because he hasn't been here that long but he's pretty sure he'd have noticed guys trying to sneak out. "Look, Marius, I told you: I love sex. Sex is amazing. And the way I see it, as long as you're enjoying yourself, that's what matters. I'm not going to label myself as anything one way or the other, and besides," he leans back a little and stretches his arms over his head. "Everybody deserves to have a chance with this, you know?" he grins and Marius has to laugh with him because, well, Courfeyrac's extremely attractive and he knows it, but he's not quite as vain as he pretends to be sometimes.

"So you mean…you've…"

"I have. So, you know, if you need advice? Talk to me, before you and him get stuck in an awkward situation," he lays his hand on Marius' forearm and nods. "Anyway, enough about your horrid lack of a sex life, let's go grab dinner," he's up and reaching for his wallet and keys as Marius stares at him incredulously.

"Did you seriously call me home from coffee just so I'd go to dinner with you?"

"Um…let's see…yeah," Courfeyrac hops toward the door and Marius really has no choice but to follow.

Not that he minds that much.

000

"I thought you avoided this place on weekends."

"Sunday afternoon is usually safe," Feuilly replies, a clean paintbrush stuck behind his ear as he stares at the canvas in front of him. "Besides, I need as much time to work on these as I can, and luckily nobody around here is into stealing painting supplies," he laughs a little and rifles through a stack of paper, pulling out some sketches and looking them over. "I know you don't frequent this part of town, though, so what did you need?"

"I wanted to ask you about Marius," Enjolras leans back on the worn mattress and crosses his legs, eyes taking in the small, dingy room.

"Well, if you've come to me for love advice I don't think I have much to tell you. It's not as if my dating life is great," the other man says in return, setting down his papers and turning around so he can brace his hip on the desk and look at Enjolras fully. "But if you want to talk, I know I'm a good listener."

"You are. Combeferre might be my best friend, but he…you know, he's studying all the time, and if you try to talk to him for long he'll have his nose buried in a book sooner than later," he smiles at the thought because he  _knows_ his friend studies too hard, but he's learned over the years to just leave him be when he gets like that. "You know Marius…better than I do, I think?"

"I've talked to him a few times, yeah, just when I've been over at his place, but…I mean, he's a good kid, and I…I've had to learn to read people instantly because of, you know, the life I lead, and he's…I'd trust him, if I had to, and that's saying something," he turns back to the easel and Enjolras lets out a slow breath.

Because really, that's not saying 'something', that's saying a hell of a lot.

Feuilly might be one of the nicest people he's ever met, but he's also incredibly wary and if he's already decided that Marius is safe enough to depend on, it has to be true. "I just…I think I like him. But I'm not…thinking about my love life has never been something I've spent a lot of time on."

"That's not a crime," Feuilly returns, glancing over his shoulder. "But if you like him, and he likes you, I don't see the harm in trying something out. I mean, again, not that I'm an expert on the subject," he sounds more than a little bitter and Enjolras knows what it's about, mostly, but at the same time he knows it's really not his place.

Still, he figures that being a good friend probably entails listening to somebody else's problems if he's come over here just to dump his own on the other man, so he clears his throat and asks, "Are you…I mean, are you…happy with…what you have?"

"It's for the best," Feuilly says, which isn't really an answer. "I mean, a real relationship takes two things I don't really have: time and money. Time? Well, I barely have enough hours in a week to paint enough to keep me alive, and money…you know well enough that I have none of that. So yes, maybe some will judge me for having the physical side of a relationship while skipping out on the rest, but it works for now," his tone is as unfriendly as Enjolras has ever heard it directed toward him and he decides to drop the subject, because it really  _is_ none of his business. "You're judging me, aren't you? That I'd be with somebody that has…no real intention of ever being faithful to me."

"I'm not," Enjolras promises. "I swear I'm not. I just…don't want to see you get hurt. You know I admire you a lot."

"I do. And  _I_ know you have more of a heart than you're willing to show most people," Feuilly stops working again and comes to sit beside Enjolras, reaching to touch his knee. "If being with Marius is something you want, if it's something you think will make you happy, then do it. Because happiness? There's never anything wrong with that," he leaves his hand there for a moment before patting the other man's leg and standing up again.

Enjolras doesn't say anything after that, lost in his own thoughts, and the sun slips lower in the sky as he tries to sort out everything going on in his head. Feuilly's humming softly to himself, eyes trained as the forms and seemingly random splatters of color on the canvas start to take shape, but he blinks himself out of the zone he's in and looks back. "Enjolras?"

"Hmm?" Enjolras snaps out of his own thoughts, eyes drawn to the lengthening shadows on the wall. "Oh. I should…"

"You should. Walking around here after dark is never a good plan," Feuilly reaches out a hand to help him up and walks him to the door, looking out himself before pulling it open.

"Thank you. For the advice," Enjolras clarifies as he leaves the tiny apartment, and Feuilly nods and leans against the doorframe.

"You're more than welcome. I just hope it was good advice," he smiles again and closes the door, and Enjolras can hear the lock click as he turns on his heel and makes his way quickly over to his car.

It's long past time to get home.

000

"Where were you?"

"Do we really need to have the conversation about you not being my mother twice in one day?" he's greeted by a rather irritated-looking Combeferre, hands on his hips and leveling his best stern look at the other man as he walks into the room.

"No, I just…don't believe coffee would take that long," he walks back to the table, still covered with textbooks and papers and Enjolras  _knows_ he's pushing himself too far and he'd better intervene now.

"Combeferre," he says firmly. "Stop working, throw a pizza in the oven, and come watch TV with me."

"Now who's mothering who?" the other man laughs but doesn't try to fight it, thank goodness, closing up all of his work and going to dig through the freezer while Enjolras moves into the living room and turns on the television.

It only takes a few minutes for the other man to join him on the couch, looking over before he asks, "You still didn't tell me…"

"I was at Feuilly's," Enjolras cuts him off and Combeferre nods, seemingly satisfied with this, settling in and turning his attention to the television while Enjolras turns his phone around in his hand, frowning.

He knows that Feuilly's right, and that he shouldn't be afraid of trying something with Marius just because it's fairly uncharted territory for him, but at the same time…

No, he decides, he's never been a coward and he's certainly not going to start now, and if it doesn't work out, that's the way it has to be.

He turns on his phone and checks the number that Marius had texted him from earlier in the day, sending a quick message to it and hoping that he's making the right decision in all of this.

000

"Is it from your man?" is what Courfeyrac asks, yanking the phone from Marius' fingers and reading it as the younger man rolls his eyes and lets him be. "It is! He…"

Marius swipes his phone back and reads it, smiling to himself and ignoring Courfeyrac's protests, because this at least is confirmation that Enjolras does seem to like being around him, and asking him what time he gets out of class tomorrow is as good an invitation as any.

He quickly sends his response, sliding his phone back into his pocket and tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

No, he might not know exactly what he wants from all of this yet, but there's still time to figure it out and he's becoming increasingly okay with the idea of…well, maybe not being quite so straight as he'd once thought he was.

At least this is a start, and he's hopeful it will be a good one.


	6. Chapter 6

"So I think we need to talk about…what we've been avoiding talking about up until now," Enjolras says this in a rush when they meet the next afternoon, in a back corner of the main campus lounge, and Marius nods in agreement because he's had the same thoughts. It's rare to see Enjolras looking unsure of himself but Marius figures it's not exactly something either of them are experts at and maybe he'd better break the ice this time around.

"We do," he agrees. "And I guess…well, I mean, I'm straight. Or I thought I was. Until we…" he waves a hand and Enjolras nods in understanding, because there's not much else he can say to that.

"You know," the other man leans back, a tiny smile on his lips, "if one of us were more like, say, Courfeyrac, we wouldn't be having these conversations at all. We'd have already slept together."

Marius laughs at that because, well, it's certainly true, and he collects himself enough to reply, "He  _did_ offer to give me sex advice if I needed it…"

"Oh, God," Enjolras groans and drops his head back, looking about as exasperated and embarrassed as Marius has seen anybody look, and once again he's almost astonished at how…young and human Enjolras can seem when he lets his guard down. "He has  _got_ to stop sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

"You've known him longer than I have but I'm going to say that that's…never going to happen," Marius shrugs and the other man nods in resignation after a few moments. There's silence, then, that now-familiar awkwardness straining between them, and Marius clears his throat as he tries to find the right words. "Look, I don't…I wouldn't lie to you about…I think that…if you want to try something, with us, I'm not…against the idea," he knows it sounds lame and Enjolras shakes his head and looks up.

"That has to be the most ringing endorsement for a relationship I've ever heard," he replies dryly and Marius blushes and looks away. "But I…look, Marius, people are afraid of me, because I try very hard not to be afraid of  _anything._ But when it comes to this…it might be the one thing I fear, and maybe that's what's holding me back," it's surprisingly honest, coming from him, and Marius finds himself nodding before he even realizes he's doing it.

"So where does that…leave us?"

"I don't think it has to leave us as anything," Enjolras looks unconcerned as he rests his arms lightly on the tabletop, his body completely at ease and Marius tries to relax himself. "If this…if it goes somewhere, it goes somewhere, and I don't think rushing anything is going to be good for either of us," he sounds more sure of himself now and Marius is half-relieved and half-disappointed about the outcome of this, although the disappointment surprises him a little.

"Okay. So we just…"

"Take things at our own pace. And ignore Courfeyrac when he decides we're being too prudish for his tastes," Enjolras adds in an undertone and Marius smiles again because, well, Courfeyrac's definitely not going to give them an easy time.

"I think that…"

Marius stops when there's a commotion heading toward their table and he hears Enjolras groan in obvious resignation, the man swiping a hand back through his golden hair and mussing it as they watch the scene in front of them.

"It was an accident!"

"I don't  _care_ if it was an accident, now we have to wait God-knows-how-long before they get the damn window replaced and if you think I'm sleeping in a place without proper windows where I'll probably catch pneumonia or something equally horrific you don't know me very well."

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Enjolras is back to sounding completely authoritative, all of his earlier gentleness and contemplation gone, and Joly and Bossuet look up at him and take a step back from each other.

"Boys,  _honestly!"_ Musichetta sweeps up behind them, shoving them both aside and shooting an apologetic look toward the table. "Can't you see these two are having a conversation? And from the looks of things it's much more civil than what you're hashing out, so go do it over  _there,"_ she shoves them both toward an unoccupied table and they go, still bickering, as she drops into a spare chair. "Sorry. I'll leave the two of you alone, I know…"

"What's going on with them?" Marius knows he might regret asking, probably already does by the warning flash of Enjolras' glare as he turns to him, but he still feels like enough of an outside that the more information he can get about, well,  _everyone,_ the better.

"Bossuet is notoriously clumsy. I guess he was walking through the living room reading out of a textbook, got tripped up by the rug, the book went flying and smashed clean through the window. The repairman said he won't be able to come out until tomorrow so, well, Joly's not happy about that. They'll get over it," she decides, waving a hand as if to dismiss the entire thing, but the other two are back by now.

"It's just one night!"

"If you want to stay there for one night and risk dying that's your choice, but I'm not going to be a part of it," Joly's got his phone out, biting his lip as he sends off a text and smiling in relief a second later. "I'm staying with Jehan. You can do what you want," he nods to Marius and Enjolras before stalking out of the lounge and Bossuet crosses his arms and frowns.

"Well," he turns to Musichetta. "We can have fun tonight without him, right?" he looks far too hopeful and she pats his arm, giving him an apologetic smile in return.

"I'm going with my  _boyfriend_. Besides," she stands and turns swiftly on her heel. "You  _did_ break the window."

Bossuet drops into the chair she'd been occupying and groans, slumping forward onto the table, and Marius knows that whatever conversation he's been having with Enjolras is effectively over.

Really, for all the rest of them are trying to push them together, what they're doing more often than not is preventing them from even talking.

Enjolras smiles at him, rare enough as it is but there's a fondness in his eyes and Marius knows from that alone that he really  _does_ care about everybody he's friends with, and he probably finds their…quirks endearing in a way.

Even if Marius still can't figure half of them out.

000

"You don't have to try so hard."

Marius looks up and almost hits his head on the cabinet from where he's pulling glasses out, blinking at Jehan as the other man leans against the counter and crosses his arms. "I was just…"

"No, not…I meant, around us. I'm probably not one to talk, but I'll be the first to admit that we're…an odd group of people," he settles on, turning to root through some of the other cupboards. "So just…be yourself. You're a very likable person," he sounds only about half-aware as he brings out a popcorn popper and sets it up.

It's Wednesday, and they're all over at Jehan's place for a movie night because, well, apparently Joly and Musichetta (and Bossuet as well) are all now staying there since the window's not fixed yet, and in Jehan's own words, 'my place is much too big for me anyway since my parents kind of spoil me.'

"I…thank you," Marius supposes it's a compliment of sorts, but there's so much about this that's still unknown and confusing to him and the last thing he wants to do is put a foot out of line or inadvertently offend somebody, since there are a lot of times it seems like he says things without thinking them through first.

"Besides, Enjolras adores you, and that's proof enough for most of us," he's still setting up the machine, pouring the kernels in and turning it on while he sets a large bowl under the spout. "And tonight's a night for relaxing, so stop worrying so much and just…enjoy," the other man pats his shoulder and Marius finally nods and gives him a tiny smile, feeling a little more at ease.

Jehan's pretty mild by his very nature, Marius thinks, and he knows that his kindness isn't any sort of act so he feels okay believing what he's saying.

"Marius, why isn't your boy here yet? We want to start!" Courfeyrac bursts into the kitchen with his usual lack of tact and tugs Marius out into the living room where everybody else has gathered. Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet are squished into what should really be a two-person loveseat, which more than anything else says that they've all resolved their differences. Bahorel's curled up in an armchair, an unlit cigarette in his mouth and Grantaire's plopped down on the carpet at his feet, a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand.

"He'll be drunk in about a half-hour anyway and if he sits on a chair he'll just fall off," Bahorel mumbles around the cigarette, grinning as Grantaire weakly reaches up to slap his knee. The man turns to Marius then, blinking blearily but once again giving him a look that implies some sort of grudging respect and Marius makes a mental note to actually talk to him at some point even though he finds the man almost impossible to read.

"Seriously, where are they?" Courfeyrac flops down on the longer couch, sprawling so he takes up the entire space, and Marius is about to answer that Enjolras' whereabouts are hardly his concern when there's a knock on the door and he glances around before going to answer it.

"Sorry we're late, had an, um, situation outside my place. And he almost got into a fight," Feuilly rushes through the door as Enjolras follows, scowling at the room in general.

"What happened?" Marius is instantly concerned because while Enjolras seems to have a bit of a short temper, he never thought he'd be one to resort to physical violence.

"Nothing," he says bluntly, but his gaze softens as Marius keeps looking at him expectantly. "Okay, fine."

"You got hit on by the idiots that live next to him, didn't you?" Bahorel's grinning and Enjolras rolls his eyes, but it's answer enough. "Feuilly's got some drunkards that like to hang out in the parking lot at his place, and well, when somebody as pretty as Enjolras walks by…"

"You need to learn to take a compliment," Grantaire mutters and the glare Enjolras sends in his direction could probably freeze blood. "I'm just saying…"

"Yes, thank you. Compliments are one thing, but objectifying me purely for…sexual reasons is something else entirely," Enjolras looks slightly uncomfortable and Marius reaches to pat his arm, smiling kindly at him. He knows that, looking like he does, Enjolras probably gets his fair share of attention from members of both sexes, but it's also the last thing he wants and Marius has quickly come to realize that, for as beautiful as he is, there's so much more to him than just his looks.

"Where's Combeferre?" Jehan comes out of the kitchen with a few bowls of popcorn and passes them out, looking mildly at Courfeyrac until the other man huffs and moves aside on the couch, and then sitting himself smack in the middle and gesturing for Feuilly to sit on his other side.

There's a story there, and Marius is curious about it, but he knows it's not his place to ask.

"Studying," Enjolras answers the question. "I tried to tell him he could take a night off, but you know how he is," he waves a hand dismissively and looks around the room, his glare returning in full force as he seems to realize something. "You all planned this, didn't you?"

Marius follows his gaze and realizes that the only place left to sit is a sort of lounge-chair, really only big enough for one...or two, if they were okay with being pretty much on top of each other.

"Planned what?" Courfeyrac's blinking in a way that he probably thinks looks innocent but hardly is, and Marius hooks his arm through Enjolras' and pulls him toward the seat.

"It's okay. I'm…it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you," he says honestly, because as excuses to get close go it's actually a rather good one, and Enjolras takes the time to glare at the room at large once more before sitting down, as close to one side of the chair as he can get, and Marius is thankful that they're both fairly slender as he gets himself comfortable on the other side, trying to be as small as possible.

After a few minutes of extreme awkwardness, the others bickering over what to watch, Enjolras mutters, "this is ridiculous," and pulls Marius closer to him, an arm snugly around him, and Marius lets himself relax enough that his head is resting on the other man's shoulder.

Both of them are still too tense, and he can feel that, but it's…better than it had been. He shifts a little more until he's fully relaxed and decides to just enjoy it, because he knows that, with these people, he can.


	7. Chapter 7

Enjolras isn't even sure what they're watching. Apparently it's something with a lot of action sequences, but he's more focused on trying to figure out if he  _likes_ sitting this close to somebody, if he'd be comfortable with it on a more regular basis, and so far it's…not really objectionable.

He's got a bowl of popcorn perched on his knee, both he and Marius grabbing some occasionally, and his eyes wander the room when he's not absently looking at the television because, much as most of the people there do their best to annoy him all the time, he is grateful for all of them.

Yes, even Grantaire, and he knows that he could probably stand to be a little…nicer to the other man, but he's never been able to understand his general attitude of apathy toward, well, pretty much everything, although perhaps the fact that he's stuck around as long as he has is testament enough that he  _can_ commit to something when he wants to.

He looks over to the couch again, trying to figure out the interplay going on there, and he knows that part of it is that Jehan's just naturally protective of anybody he considers his friend, but Feuilly looks slightly annoyed (which, he's come to learn, is rare) and Courfeyrac looks, well, as nonchalant as always although there's something in the lines of his body, normally so relaxed and almost feline-esque in their gracefulness, that's more rigid than normal.

"What's…what's the story there?" Marius whispers in his ear, his voice low and his breath ticklish, and Enjolras looks at the other three one more time before turning to Marius and resting his forehead against the other man's temple.

It's close, almost intimate, and he can hear Marius' breath hitch slightly. "I'm not sure if they'd want me to tell you. I'm not sure I know all of it myself," he adds as an afterthought. "Just…Jehan's got…he doesn't seem to believe that relationships can be built out of anything other than complete fairy-tale romance. It's naïve, but it's endearing. Courfeyrac…"

"Yeah, I think he believes that relationships should be built from everything  _except_ fairy-tale romance," Marius laughs to himself, but there's something painful in his voice and Enjolras knows he's thinking about his  _own_  failed fairy-tale romance; about the girl who'd captured his heart and instead of living happily ever after had disappeared to another country without any promises of ever returning.

He's never had that kind of heartbreak, maybe because he guards his heart so carefully, but he's also never believed in that type of all-consuming love and it's probably safer that way.

"And Feuilly…he's extremely realistic, which you'd expect from him. He…" Enjolras purses his lips, because Feuilly's hard to explain, but he owes Marius this much at least. "He believes the best in people without actually expecting too much from them, and he's had to learn that in order to survive. I don't know how he stays so optimistic, but…" he shrugs, because there are times when people have let him down that Enjolras can see how much it hurts, but he keeps on staying far more positive than Enjolras ever could have had he grown up in the same situation.

That's part of the reason he admires him so much, really.

Marius looks confused still, brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip, but eventually he nods. "So there's…"

"It's complicated," Enjolras replies easily, and he hopes Marius won't press because, really, it's none of his business either.

"A lot of things are with all of you," Marius whispers and Enjolras wonders if he was even supposed to hear that, but he can't really argue the point because, if nothing else, it's certainly true.

They both end up reaching for the popcorn at the same time then, withdrawing their hands just as quickly before Marius starts laughing under his breath and sets his hand on leg, palm-up in what's obviously an invitation and Enjolras hesitates before taking it, letting his fingers twine with the other man's.

"Some things don't have to be," Marius says quietly, settling himself back on the blond's shoulder, and Enjolras realizes that he's right. In the long run, no matter how confusing and intimidating some things might be, he really needs to stop looking at the possibility of a relationship and physical closeness as one of them.

Whatever else this turns out to be, this at least can stay simple.

It's late by the time the movie's over, all of them tired and ready to sleep especially considering that it's the middle of the week, and Jehan looks up from the couch and shrugs. "You can all stay here if you want to. I don't mind."

"I need to go," Enjolras stands up, Marius moving over obligingly to let him do so. "You all know that Combeferre will be phoning me every fifteen minutes if I don't make it home by midnight."

"We should go, too," Marius pointedly looks at Courfeyrac, who's scowling at nothing in particular. "I mean, we don't need to impose…"

Jehan turns to Courfeyrac then, and there's something almost challenging in the young poet's gaze that has the other man standing up and jamming his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, okay, we'll go. Feuilly, you're staying?"

"Probably. Too late to go back to mine," Feuilly's half-leaning against Jehan and Enjolras is keeping a close eye on everything happening there because he has a feeling it might get messy, even though, once again, relationship matters are hardly his concern.

"Throw me a blanket and I'll be fine," Bahorel looks comfortable in the armchair, feet tucked under himself and the cigarette perched behind his ear now, and Grantaire is predictably passed out on the floor so the chances of him moving probably aren't great.

"Okay. We'll see you guys tomorrow," Jehan gets up to grab the blanket and walks them to the door, waving as they exit into the cool autumn night.

Their route home takes them all in the same direction for a while, and when they part it's with a little bit of awkwardness due to Courfeyrac hovering and looking far too interested, but Enjolras is feeling better about everything as he heads into his own building.

That is, of course, until Combeferre opens the door.

000

_(11:58 p.m.) "And you're supposed to tell me if you're going to be out so late!"_

_(11:58 p.m.) I swear he's worse than my mother_

_(11:58 p.m.) Maybe we should have stayed at Jehan's_

Marius grins and tries to hide his smile when Courfeyrac looks over at him, but he's highly unsuccessful and the other man makes the connection instantly, grinning.

"Your lover is texting you, isn't he? I know that smile," he flops down on their own couch once he's through the front door and Marius shakes his head.

"He's not my lover. We're just…I don't even know  _what_ we are, but it's not…"

_(11:59 p.m.) Save me, he's going to be at it all night._

"Give me that," Courfeyrac leans over and snatches his phone, wrinkling his nose as he reads them. "I thought he was sexting you."

"This  _is_ Enjolras we're talking about," Marius takes his phone back and slips it in his pocket, telling himself to get back to the other man once Courfeyrac's stopped pestering him. "And speaking of relationships, what's…going on with you and Feuilly and Jehan?"

He sees Courfeyrac stiffen at the question, his eyes dark when he looks up again and most of the good humor he seemingly always has gone, and Marius shrinks back from the force of his gaze.

"It's nothing," he says, and it's about the coldest Marius has ever heard his voice. "I'm serious, Marius, it's nothing. Just…something we're working out, but don't concern yourself over it."

"I just…"

"Don't," the other man sounds tired now, dropping his head against the back of the couch and tipping it back. "I'm a little…off. I haven't had sex since Saturday night," he sounds petulant now and Marius has to snort.

"Do you want a medal or…?"

"Oh, fuck off," Courfeyrac flaps a hand at him uselessly but he's smiling again. "Really, though, I'm trying. I'm…there are a few reasons why, but I'm trying."

"I'm glad. As long as you're happy," Marius takes a chance and pats his knee, squawking as Courfeyrac locks an arm around his neck and pulls him down next to him. His phone vibrates in his pocket once more and the other man mercifully lets him go.

"I am. I think. Or I will be. But go, have phone sex with your man. I'll give you two some privacy," he stands and winks before disappearing into his room, and Marius sighs and looks down at his phone again.

_(12:02 a.m.) I think he's finally worn himself out and is going to bed_

_(12:02 a.m.) Are you still awake?_

Marius curls up on the couch, fingers typing out a reply as he gets a little more comfortable, and wonders if it's normal to be this happy about a text conversation.

000

"They were holding hands."

"You have night-vision now?" Bahorel yawns, the blanket wrapped around him tightly as he holds a cup of coffee in his hands. It's well after midnight but apparently he needs it, although for the life of him Feuilly can't see the logic behind drinking caffeine before trying to go to sleep.

"It wasn't  _that_ dark," Jehan protests, a little too loudly, and Grantaire stirs and rolls onto his back, arm flung out to the side as he mutters something before dropping back to sleep.

"Still, all of you are way too obsessed about this whole thing," the older man looks a little confused before he shrugs and goes back to his coffee.

"It's just…rare to see Enjolras letting his guard down, and I think we all want him to be happy," the poet replies, legs crossed as he gives Bahorel a look that almost dares the other man to contradict him.

"Of course we do," Bahorel nods firmly. "But don't you think he should, well, be happy at his own pace? I mean…"

"He needs the encouragement," Feuilly breaks in. "And normally I'd be all for staying out of somebody else's love life, but from what he's said to me he's way out of his depth and I think it's helping."

"Is that a hint?" Jehan looks at the artist and Feuilly shrugs his thin shoulders, wrapping his arms around himself. "Feuilly, I'm sorry if I'm overstepping…"

"You aren't. You're protective of me, I understand, but just…I don't want any of us fighting," he says softly, and Bahorel clears his throat.

"Not that it's any of my business…because it's not…but I think everybody noticed the tension over there with you guys and Courfeyrac," he notes and Feuilly sighs and leans forward, clasping his hands in front of him.

"I'm sorry," Jehan says again, rubbing Feuilly's back lightly. "I know I shouldn't try and…you know, insert myself into it, but he's…"

"I know what he is," Feuilly tries to rein in his temper because he doesn't get angry often, but he can feel it bubbling up now. "Trust me, I knew what he was long before this started. And I'm careful," he promises, looking at Jehan and willing him to understand, and the young man finally nods.

"You are," he agrees vaguely and Bahorel sighs heavily.

"You creative types and your weird telepathic connection," he snorts and the other two have to laugh, because yes, there does seem to be a strange sort of understanding between them because of that. "Anyway, as much as I love a good fight, I don't like it when it's my friends that are doing the fighting, so sort yourselves out and go back to mooning over Enjolras' sudden love life," he makes it sound like an order and Jehan nods quickly.

"We will.  _Holding hands,"_  he stresses, leaning close to Feuilly, and the orphan has to admit that he's glad that Enjolras and Marius are working everything out. Even though he knows they've got a long, long way to go.

000

The next morning Courfeyrac drags Marius over to Enjolras' place, pounding on the door until it opens and breezing in to essentially slam all of Combeferre's textbooks shut under the pretense of 'having a conversation that doesn't involve printed words staring back at you' when really Marius knows he's just giving him space, and he appreciates it.

"Good morning," Enjolras steps out of his room, stretching his arms above his head and he's still obviously in the process of getting dressed, hair mussed and wearing an undershirt that clings to his torso and reveals his toned arms.

"Morning," Marius squeaks, almost ashamed that his voice comes out like that because, damn it, he's  _very_ obviously attracted to Enjolras' very  _male_ body and it's getting harder to deny that it's not just a purely emotional connection anymore.

"Sorry. I should have guessed he'd drag you here since he seems to have the strangest whims, but I'll finish getting dressed and we can grab something to eat on the way to the campus," he ducks back into his room and Marius is very pointedly  _not_ thinking about him naked, but he turns back to the table to find the other two men looking at him curiously.

"Don't hurt him," is all Combeferre says before he's taking his textbooks back and opening them again, and Courfeyrac gives Marius a roguish wink before settling down in a chair. "I know you won't," the other man continues, finally setting the book down of his own accord and motioning Marius over. "I trust that you won't. And I think you're good for each other."

"I hope we will be," Marius says honestly, sinking down into another free chair. "I've never…we're both kind of jumping in head-first here."

"Which is fine, no matter what Courfeyrac might tell you," Combeferre smiles at him and sits back.

"In my opinion, it's always better if somebody's experienced," Courfeyrac's pouting again and Combeferre leans over to pat his arm. "But, I guess, it's kind of hot to just…experience everything together. Probably more special that way, and since you're all into the romance shit…"

"Hey," Marius bites his lip and refrains from saying anything more because he's reminded of his and Enjolras' conversation the night before, about how Courfeyrac doesn't seem to be a fan of overtly romantic scenarios. "I mean…I might be. A little."

"You and Jehan," Combeferre laughs leans forward on his pile of books.

"Are we ready?" Enjolras sweeps out of his room, staring at the others gathered around the table as he moves to grab his jacket and bag, and Marius stands up and walks across the kitchen to meet him. "You boys coming with?"

"Yes. Anything to tear this one away from his books," Courfeyrac hops up and forcefully pulls Combeferre up with him, grabbing the other man's wrist and all but hustling him out of the room despite his obvious protestations.

"Well? Shall we?" Enjolras holds out his arm a little bit, looking half unsure and half expectant, and Marius doesn't hesitate before slipping his arm through the other man's, knowing that it's a rather big gesture and it might seem simple, but for them, it's a pretty giant step forward.


	8. Chapter 8

"Can I ask you a favor?"

Marius looks up from where he's writing, nodding a little slowly because with Courfeyrac favors can sometimes be dangerous, but he doesn't see the harm in at least hearing him out.

"Okay. Well, um, Feuilly needs…to go back to his place to grab some things for the weekend, but it's already late enough that I guess he doesn't want to go alone and I'd go with him except I'm…meeting some people in a while, so I can't," he's acting more nervous than usual and being unnecessarily cryptic, but Marius figures it's at least not a  _hard_ favor and he has a feeling Courfeyrac wants him out of the house anyway.

"I'm happy to. Where should I…"

"He's outside," Courfeyrac says in a rush and Marius leaves his books where they are, grabbing his phone and wallet and throwing a coat on as he heads out of the building and over to where Feuilly's waiting.

"I told him we were fine," Feuilly sighs, and Marius can see that he's already got Bahorel and Joly there, although the medical student as usual looks a little hesitant. "But all right, let's go. It's not that far," he calls over his shoulder, probably for Marius' benefit, and the young man falls in step with the others as they head in the opposite direction from the main campus.

"So," Joly's got his hands stuffed in his pockets, a scarf wrapped around his neck even though the air's not  _that_ cold yet. "I'm…kind of thinking you probably don't have the greatest impression of me since the last two times we talked I was…rather frazzled."

"You're  _always_ like that," Bahorel puts in, clapping Joly on the back. "He's a hypochondriac. So if he decides he's dying just ignore him, he'll get over it soon enough."

"Most of the time my ailments are real," Joly sniffs, but he's not denying the other man's claims at all. "Still, I'm sorry if you…got the wrong impression of me," he adds, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck as Marius smiles at him.

"It's fine. I've been a little…overwhelmed in general, I think, but I didn't take any of it personally," Marius assures the other man, who gives him a half-smile and hastens to catch up with Feuilly.

"So why'd Courfeyrac kick you out?" Bahorel drops back and Marius feels a little more at ease around the other man now, even though there's just something…inherently intimidating about him, both the way he handles himself and the way he looks in general.

"No idea," Marius shrugs, although from the way the other man 'hmms' at his side he has a feeling that Bahorel  _does,_ in fact, have an idea. "Do you…"

"I'm pretty sure I know what's going on, but it's none of my business, really. Or yours. If Courfeyrac wants to talk to you about it, I'm sure he will. It's not as if he's ever been afraid of talking," the other man grins and Marius has to nod in agreement. Marius is about to say something else when he looks up and sees a rather broken-down one-story apartment building in front of them, and there's the sound of breaking bottles and raucous laughter from somewhere close by.

"Can't even wait until nightfall anymore," Feuilly mutters, heading to a door that looks slightly more intact and sturdy than the ones around it and pulling out a key as his eyes dart around. "Bahorel, would you…"

"Joly and I will hold down the fort, you grab what you need," the older man replies, slinging an arm around Joly's shoulders as the man starts to protest staying outside.

"Coming?" Feuilly turns back to Marius once he's gotten the door unlocked and open, and Marius nods quickly and slips into the dark room, wincing when Feuilly turns on the light. It's not bad inside, but then, Feuilly's not exactly the type to let things get him down just because he doesn't have much money.

Still, it's small, and everything has seen better days, but Marius stands there with his hands in his pockets while Feuilly rifles through a pile of sketchpads and paint tubes.

"Sorry you were dragged along," the other man calls over his shoulder. "This can't be your idea of a fun Friday night."

"It's fine," Marius replies, wondering why they all seem so intent on apologizing to him tonight. "I mean, Courfeyrac's been…a little short-tempered all week, so maybe it's better to get away from him. He, as he keeps telling me, hasn't had sex since last Saturday so…"

"Really, now," Feuilly doesn't move from his position but there's a lilt to his voice that tells Marius that this particular bit of information is of some interest to him. "Well, I could see how that might be difficult for him…" this is said in an undertone, so low Marius isn't sure if he's supposed to have heard it, so he doesn't comment. "He'll get over it. He's never in a bad mood for long."

"You're not going to ask me about Enjolras?" Marius asks a couple of minutes later and the orphan barks a laugh at that, looking up and shaking his head.

"I'm guessing you're getting tired of that question? No, honestly, it's none of my business and I'm not as nosy as some of the…other members of our little group. I can tell he's happy, because he's basically told me as much, and that's all I need to concern myself with," he stuffs what he needs into a canvas bag and hoists it over his shoulder. "Well, let's get out of here."

Marius follows him out and glances around while he locks the door, looking for any sign of Bahorel or Joly.

They find them on the other side of the parking lot, around a makeshift fire with the men they'd, Marius thought, really been trying to avoid, but Bahorel's perched on a cement curb, smoking and with a bottle of beer in his free hand as he regales the other men with some tale or other, and Joly's seated beside him, looking at least semi-comfortable and idly stroking the back of a tiny black-and-white cat that's circling his ankles and mewling softly.

"You actually know  _everybody,_  don't you?" Feuilly looks mildly impressed and Bahorel shrugs, flashing him a grin as he hefts the bottle in a sort of toast.

"I have a lot of acquaintances," the man replies, standing up and downing the rest of the bottle before he drops it next to the fire and waves at the men, most of them already half-drunk and falling over.

"I don't suppose you asked them to stop drinking on my doorstep?" Feuilly doesn't look entirely hopeful and Bahorel shrugs.

"I'm working my way in. You don't ask something like that on the first night, but I'll get there," he nods and Feuilly gives him a grateful smile as they head out.

They're barely on their way when there's a pitiful meow behind them and they turn, the cat that Joly had been petting stumbling after them, and it ran right up to the medical student and rubbed against his leg, purring.

"I'm allergic," he says instantly as the others all turn to look at him. "I'm serious, if I have a cat in the house I'm going to break out in hives and I'll never stop sneezing and there's airborne diseases in cat litter, did you know, and I…" he stops as the cat lays on his foot and continues to purr, looking up with huge, bright blue eyes, and Marius can tell the other man's resolve is weakening remarkably quickly. "I…I can't leave you here, can I? Who knows what would happen…" he leans down and scoops the little kitten up, holding it in his arms as it reaches to bat his cheek lightly with its paw.

"I think you just got yourself a pet," Bahorel smirks around his cigarette and Joly sighs in resignation.

"I think I did, too. Well, come on then, I promise I'll try to keep Bossuet from tripping over you. But it'll probably happen anyway…" the cat's busying itself playing with Joly's scarf now, curled up in his arms, as they head back toward the campus.

000

"I don't know why you called me in for support," Enjolras has his legs crossed, one arm thrown carelessly along the back of the sofa as he watches Courfeyrac pace. "I know what this is about, and I'm on Jehan's side in this. Well, I'm on Feuilly's side, but since Jehan is as well…"

"I know you are, but everybody's going to be because I'm the only one that's fucked up here," the other man runs a hand through his dark hair before sighing and plopping down next to Enjolras. "I'm trying. But I've…Jehan's gone even more mother hen than Combeferre does with you and I just want him to back off a little. And maybe if you tell him I'm serious he'll listen, because God knows he doesn't believe a word I say."

"How am  _I_  supposed to believe you're serious?" Enjolras says quietly, although he knows that the other man is, that he'd hardly be spending this much time or effort on something he _wasn't_ serious about.

"I am. I promise. I…yes, it's a big…lifestyle change for me, but it's…I have to believe it's making me a better person," he's being honest, at least, and Enjolras has to respect that, but a moment later his normal smile is in place as he adds, "and I also asked you over because Marius' bedroom is right there and if you want to snoop for anything…"

"No. I don't care how many times you've gone through his things, I'm not about to go there," he doesn't even find the idea appealing, really, because if Marius wants him to know something about himself…well, he trusts  _Marius_ to tell him.

"It's boring anyway. Not even any porn stashed under his bed. He's so  _pure,"_ Courfeyrac's grinning like he wants nothing more than to taint said purity, but Enjolras isn't rising to the bait this time.

There's a knock on the door that thankfully saves him from needing to fend off Courfeyrac anymore and Jehan slips in without any prompting, leaning his body against the door and crossing his ankles as he stares at the other men. "So."

"So," Courfeyrac stands up and brushes some imaginary dust off of his jeans, jerking his head to the side. "Don't look so uncomfortable, Jehan. This isn't…I just want to talk."

"I know you do," the poet walks over and sits beside Enjolras, giving him a nod in greeting. "I just don't think I'm the one you should be talking to."

"You're the one that has the biggest…problem with all of this, though," Courfeyrac finally drops into an armchair and pulls his legs up. "I know that…it doesn't look good, from where you're standing, but honestly…he's an adult. He doesn't need you to look after him," he sounds annoyed but Jehan doesn't look put-out at all.

"I know he doesn't, but…he's…" the other man shrugs and looks toward Enjolras, who mostly knows what he's trying to say.

"Sometimes Feuilly seems to think that he doesn't deserve as much as he really does, and because of that…"

"You think he's settling for me and I'm taking advantage of it?" Courfeyrac snorts and looks to the side, his arms wrapped around his body. "I'm not. I swear. I'd never do that, and he's…I took a girl home last Saturday, after we were at the  _Musain,"_ he starts. "And it…yes, it was fine, but it wasn't…I think I'm getting over casual sex and if we were anything official I'd never go behind his back. I'm not that horrible of a person," he sounds defensive but Enjolras figures that it's warranted.

"I'm not angry with you," Jehan promises, hopping off the couch and crossing the room to perch on the arm of Courfeyrac's chair. "I just don't want to see anybody getting hurt, and yes, I was probably out of line to act like some…protective mother bear, but…"

"I get it, Jehan," Courfeyrac promises, laying his hand on top of the poet's and smiling at him. "And I promise, I'm never going to hurt him. I know my lifestyle is…well, foreign to most of you, but I still think I'm a good person."

"You are," Enjolras doesn't feel any regret saying that because, despite his libido, Courfeyrac  _does_ have a genuinely good heart and he'd do anything for his friends, and that's what he thinks is really important.

"Well, that does mean a lot coming from  _you,"_ Courfeyrac smirks at him before leaning back in the chair and relaxing a little. "I'm trying. And I give you full permission to kick my ass if I do something stupid," he looks at Jehan, who laughs sharply and glances away.

"I'll get Bahorel to do that because I'm sure he'd do a better job of it," the other man nods once and pats Courfeyrac's shoulder before going to sit beside Enjolras again, leaving Courfeyrac looking more than a little scared. "I'm sure it'll never happen,"

He makes it sound eerily like a threat and Courfeyrac nods rapidly, all of them looking toward the door as it opens and Marius slips in, blinking at the room at large. "Sorry. Should I be here yet?"

"I think we're finished," Jehan hops to his feet. "I'd better be getting home, though, so I'll see you all tomorrow," he waves before heading to the door, patting Marius' shoulder before he leaves, and Marius shrugs and goes to hang up his coat.

"Everything go okay?" Courfeyrac uncurls himself and stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Fine. Bahorel made friends with the people outside Feuilly's apartment and Joly now owns a cat, but…" he shrugs and Enjolras laughs quietly.

"I almost wish I could say that's the strangest thing I've ever heard where members of our group were concerned, but it's really not," he gets to his feet as well. "I should also get going, it's late and…well, I should go," he steals a glance at Marius, who shrugs and smiles, and Enjolras lightly touches his arm on the way by as he takes his own coat and exits.

000

"For fuck's sake, are you two  _ever_ going to get over yourselves and get dirty?" Courfeyrac bounds across the floor and drapes himself over Marius' back, holding him there. "I'm touching you more intimately than he ever has and I'm not even dating you!"

"We're working toward it," Marius says haltingly, because he can only  _assume_ that they're working toward it, but he actually has to agree with Courfeyrac that right now it's moving a little too slowly even for his inexperienced tastes. "We are."

"Uh-huh.  _Musain_ tomorrow night, I'd better see the two of you grinding and making out on the dance floor or I'm going to intervene," he finally lets go and heads to his room, leaving Marius shaking his head before he goes to his own.

There's nothing wrong with how slow he and Enjolras are taking things. He's pretty sure.

But then, maybe he needs to try something since Enjolras doesn't seem inclined to, and maybe tomorrow night is the right time to do it.


	9. Chapter 9

"You're afraid."

"I think I've admitted that to myself already," Enjolras sticks his hands deeper into his pockets as he and Combeferre make their way toward the  _Musain,_ the pounding bass beat from inside the club already leaking out into the chilly autumn air.

"Don't be. Honestly, I know you're not a man to rush into anything involving a relationship, but this is one time I don't think you need to be scared. You and he are both in the same situation here and one of you has to make the first move or you'll never go forward," he states, shrugging his shoulders and reaching to push his glasses up as Enjolras snorts.

"Is that your professional diagnosis, Doctor?" he teases gently and Combeferre laughs and nudges his arm.

"Hardly. Don't jinx it."

"You and Joly are going to be brilliant, you know that. For somebody so concerned with his own health he's scarily good at being around other sick people without flinching," the blond muses as they keep walking, and Combeferre nods in agreement.

"Well, one thing's for sure with him, nobody will ever be able to accuse him of not being clean enough or not keeping everything disinfected," he slides his arm through Enjolras' and looks up at him. "But you're trying to change the subject. You and Marius."

"What do you suggest I do?" Enjolras has a few ideas, but he's not sure exactly what would be considered appropriate given the situation.

"Just…you know, you've already made out, so I don't think kissing would be going too far too fast. I mean, if you talk to Courfeyrac he'd tell you to just rip each other's clothes off and have at it, but I think you both need to start a little slower. So dance with him and see where it leads," he adds, and Enjolras can't really find any fault with his logic there.

"I…okay. I'll try."

"Good," Combeferre pats his arm and nods to the bouncer outside; the club staff are familiar enough with all of them by now that they don't even need to mention Bahorel by name anymore, so they head back to their usual table to find that most everybody has already arrived.

"You got him out of the house!" Bossuet stands up and gestures wildly, nearly knocking over about three bottles in the process as Joly grabs his arm and sits him down. "It's a miracle!"

"I'm not  _that_ much of a recluse," Combeferre slides in beside them and leans his elbows on the tabletop. "And I hear you've got a new housemate?"

"He's better behaved than either of these two," Musichetta puts in. "And infinitely quieter, so I'm happy to have him. Even if we can't decide on a name yet," she adds with a laugh. "Because I refuse to call him 'kitty' forever."

"We'll think of one," Joly promises, smiling at her. "And my allergies haven't been half-bad so I think we can keep him."

"And I haven't sat on him or tripped over him or accidentally let him out so it should work," Bossuet adds and Joly mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, 'it'll only be a matter of time…'

"We thought you'd come with Marius," Musichetta breaks in, obviously trying to quell the argument before it starts, and Enjolras shrugs.

"I'm sure he'll be here. You know Courfeyrac wouldn't miss one of these nights for anything, so…"

"Isn't he turning over a new leaf, though?" she asks, smiling. "I'm proud of him if it's true. But maybe there's too much temptation here for him…"

"I can control myself," Courfeyrac's managed to sidle up to the table while they've been talking, leaning over and resting his arms on the back of the booth. "And I'm going to try really hard not to be offended at your utter lack of faith in me."

"Your reputation precedes you," Bossuet tells him, passing over a glass that he sniffs at before shrugging and taking a rather sizable drink from.

"Maybe, but people change, you know. And there are some things that are more important than my reputation as a womanizer," he sounds almost reflective before shaking his head. "Marius, stop dragging your feet and get over here!" he calls over his shoulder and the younger man comes into view a moment later, looking decidedly out of place in the crowded club as he weaves his way toward the booth and drops down beside Enjolras.

"Hey," he says softly and Enjolras smiles at him, reaching over to pat his leg.

"Hey, yourself," he replies.

And there's that awkward tension that always seems to exist between them, that not knowing what to do even though he thinks they should be long past that now, and he decides to keep his hand on Marius' knee, hoping that it's okay and getting a tentative smile in return.

"Well, we didn't come to a club to sit here and yell at each other," Courfeyrac finishes off his drink and slams the glass down on the table, holding his hand out to Feuilly. "Coming?"

"I suppose," Feuilly slides out of the booth and takes the other man's hand, but there's still something guarded about his smile and Enjolras makes a note to keep an eye on them.

It might not be any of his business, still, but there's nothing wrong with looking out for his friends.

"He's right. We didn't come here to sit down all night," Joly turns to Musichetta. "Shall we? I'm sure these guys will hold the table," he waves vaguely toward the others, getting a shrug from Combeferre and an affronted snort from Grantaire.

"I find it mildly insulting that none of you seem to believe I enjoy dancing. Or that I can, in fact, dance at all."

"Can you?" Bossuet looks mildly impressed and Enjolras has to admit that he's mostly seen the other man as a waste of space, but he supposes everybody has to have  _some_ sort of talent.

"I can indeed. Quite well. If any of you would like a demonstration…"

There's silence until Musichetta sighs out something that sounds like, ' _boys'_ and stands up. "Well, if none of these lads will take you up on that, I'll be happy to,"

"But…" Joly starts and she hushes him and pats the top of his head.

"Go dance with Bossuet. I won't be long."

"You know he'll either step on me or trip over his own feet," Joly shoots the other man a sideways glance and Bossuet shrugs but doesn't deny it.

"You'll live," she leans down to kiss his cheek and Grantaire slides out of the booth, remarkably steady for the amount of alcohol he's already taken in, bowing slightly to her before taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

"Go," Combeferre looks over to Enjolras. "I'll stay here even if the others leave, and you two should really be out there."

It's not subtle, and it's not really needed, but somehow hearing it makes it easier for Enjolras to nod toward the dance floor. Marius bites his bottom lip but gives him a smile in return, and really, this shouldn't be a big deal since they did this all last week.

It feels like a big deal, though, and maybe that's what's making it different.

000

"You should kiss me."

Marius blushes as soon as he says it, lost in the beat of the song around them and the fact that Enjolras is just…really close (inevitable with the press of bodies on the dance floor, really) and smells kind of amazing and it's been on his mind for a while, obviously.

Enjolras barks a laugh and leans closer, a few strands of golden hair falling across his face before he reaches to brush them back. "I should, should I?"

"Yeah. You should," he tries to be confident, tries to channel Courfeyrac because God knows he wouldn't have any issues asking for a kiss, but Enjolras doesn't look put-out and Marius barely registers that  _this is happening_ before the other man's lips are pressed to his own.

It's not making out, not really, and it's not as if Marius has much experience (and, well, the last time this happened he was too drunk to remember any of it the next day), but it doesn't feel  _wrong_ and his arms tighten around the blond's neck as he lets his instincts take over.

Enjolras lets out this tiny little groan against his lips and oh, fuck, that might be the hottest thing he's ever heard. He has a brief moment of wondering how far is too far, since Enjolras seems…reluctant to have people touch him normally, but he forgets about that as his fingers tangle in the other man's hair and he tugs a little, getting him to turn his head for a better angle.

They break apart then, both panting a little, foreheads pressed together and Marius lets his eyes close and knows that if he's ever had any doubts that he could be with a man and be okay with it, they're all pretty much erased now because he wouldn't wish  _anybody_ to be in Enjolras' place right now.

A particularly obnoxious wolf-whistle breaks them apart and they turn to see Courfeyrac scrambling in his pockets. "Any chance you two could do that again? I need to record this for proof…"

"For God's sakes," Enjolras mutters and Marius knows that he should have expected this, really.

"Do you, um, want to get out of here?" he asks, grateful that his voice barely trembles. "I mean…Courfeyrac won't be home for a bit, and it'll be…more private?"

"Okay, it's recording, so if you two could get on with the making out…"

"Yes," Enjolras grabs Marius' hand and glares at Courfeyrac as they sweep by him, ignoring his yelps of protest and making their way out into the cool night air.

000

Of course, everything becomes a little more real when they're alone in Marius' place, the headiness and darkness of the club and the music fading to harsh light and silence, and Marius clears his throat and sighs.

"Sorry. I guess we're still hopeless at this," Enjolras goes to sit on the couch and Marius spares a glance at the clock, seeing how late it really is.

"You can stay, if you want? I mean, it's late, and I…oh, to hell with it, we can sleep in the same bed without doing anything sexual, right?" he blurts the words out before he loses his nerve completely, and the look Enjolras gives him then is more admiration than disgust. "I've got…we're close to the same size, I think, so you can borrow some pyjamas, and I've got a spare toothbrush…" he trails off as Enjolras shakes his head.

"No. I mean…you don't have to go through all that trouble, but I'll gladly stay," he stands up and Marius exhales in relief, rushing into his bedroom to pull out a pair of sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt before bringing them out. "I'll just…change in the bathroom," Enjolras gives him a nod before he leaves the living room, and Marius stands there in stunned silence for a minute before realizing that  _he_ should probably get changed, too, and he's seated on the bed by the time Enjolras emerges from the washroom.

He looks…younger, this way, his hair ruffled and while the clothes fit him well enough, it's more casual than anything Marius has really seen him wearing and there's something unguarded about his entire being which is rather refreshing.

"I'll just be a minute," he promises, splashing some water on his face and brushing his teeth quickly before he comes out to find Enjolras with his arms crossed staring at the bed. "Um…"

"Oh, do you…is there a side you normally sleep on, or…?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter, I kind of sprawl," he admits with a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Wherever is fine."

"Okay. Good," Enjolras pulls back the blanket and climbs in, Marius taking the other side and turning off the light before settling himself. He doesn't know what would be appropriate here, if they should just…try not to touch and go to sleep that way, but luckily Enjolras makes the decision for him.

"In the spirit of being more impulsive, you should come here," he holds his arm up and Marius scoots backward, his back pressed to the other man's chest as Enjolras throws his arm over the other man's body, pulling him in tighter. Marius slides his own hand down to cover the one resting on his chest, and he knows that, even if this isn't perfect, it's definitely a start.

And he's happy with that.


	10. Chapter 10

He wakes up disoriented, wondering why he's in a bed that isn't his with his arms wrapped around somebody, before the night before comes back and he sighs and lets his arms tighten a little.

Right. Marius. Who's turned over at some point and Enjolras studies him in the morning light, seeing just how young he truly is as he moves one arm to brush the other man's hair off of his forehead.

There's something inherently vulnerable about waking up next to somebody, but for whatever reason he's completely calm and, well, even a little happy.

"Morning," Marius blinks open his eyes and looks at him, shifting closer and tangling their legs as he lets his eyes slip half-closed again. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Enjolras agrees, because he'd been out like a light all night. "I guess Courfeyrac was being quiet."

"Oh, God, I didn't even think about that," Marius laughs. "But yeah, probably a good thing we didn't hear anything," he looks completely relaxed and Enjolras thinks that, well, maybe this could be something he'll easily get used to. "Um, do you want to stick around for breakfast? Or we can go out and get something?"

"Sounds good," he unwinds himself from Marius and sits up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning as he leans against the headboard. "I'll just freshen up a little bit first."

"Sure. I'll go wake up Courfeyrac and see if he wants to come? Or…"

"No, that's fine, you know he'll whine if we leave him out of it," Enjolras laughs, watching as Marius slinks out of the room and wondering if he should warn him that Courfeyrac's not going to be alone.

Or maybe Marius has figured out what's going on already, but either way, he's about to find out.

000

"Courfeyrac, hey, we were wondering if you…um…" Marius stops, because he thinks his brain has short-circuited a little. Yes, he'd kind of started to connect the dots with Courfeyrac's admission that he's slept with men and the whole…thing with Feuilly and Jehan but…

"Marius! Knocking! I didn't think I'd ever have to remind you about that!" Courfeyrac sounds scandalized, which is new, and Feuilly's apparently trying to make himself as small as possible, knees pulled up to his chest and the sheet pulled up to his chin as he blinks at Marius.

"Oh, God," Marius has found the power of speech again and he should probably…close the door or run away or  _something_  but he can't seem to move. "Um. I'm sorry, I was just…"

"Well, no use hiding it now, what did you need?" and just like that, Courfeyrac's back to his usual casual nonchalance, seemingly not caring anymore that Marius is intruding.

"Um. Enjolras and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast? And you too, obviously," he says to Feuilly, who uncurls a little and wraps his arms around his knees now.

"He stayed the night, did he?" Courfeyrac sounds sly now, smirking at Marius. "So you two…"

"He stayed because it was late and I didn't see the point in him going home," Marius isn't letting the other man get to him this time. "That's it."

"Hmm, well, I could tell you what  _we_ did last night but that might be too much for your innocent ears to handle…"

"Do it and I shove you off the bed," Feuilly grumbled and Courfeyrac chuckled.

"I'd never. You know that."

"Anyway, yes, breakfast would be great. We'll…meet you in the living room in a few minutes?" Feuilly tries and Marius has enough instinct left to nod and back out of the room, heading back to his own in a half-daze and barely hearing Enjolras laugh softly as he barricades himself in the bathroom to process everything.

000

"I think you scarred him for life," Enjolras pushes a cup of coffee across the counter and Feuilly takes it, raising it in thanks before sitting at the counter.

"We didn't think he'd just barge in there, but it's not like we were doing anything incriminating," he shrugs. "I mean…"

"No, I would have thought he'd have figured it out by now, but I guess at least there's no question anymore," Enjolras leans on the countertop and the other man gives him a tiny smile. "You're happy."

"Cautiously optimistic, more like," Feuilly replies. "I mean, the fact that he…hasn't slept with anybody in a week probably isn't that admirable to anybody else, but knowing him? That's pretty much a proposal," his tone is light enough but Enjolras can tell that he doesn't actually consider it as such, although he has to admit that with Courfeyrac's track record it's a little more than impressive.

"It is, I have to admit," Enjolras sips at his own coffee as Marius slides out of his bedroom, still looking more than a little sheepish. "Marius, it's okay. Really."

"I know," he slides into the other seat at the counter. "I probably should have guessed, huh?"

"Probably, but I don't blame you for not expecting it. Although I have to ask, last week when I was here in the morning, did you think I was sleeping on the couch, or…?" Feuilly raises an eyebrow and Marius laughs nervously. "And why, if I was, he told me I couldn't come over the next night just because he had a girl over?"

"I just thought you didn't want to listen to him having sex," Marius seems to realize what he's said a second later and drops his head into his hands, groaning. "I mean…"

"It's fine," Feuilly reaches to lay a hand on Marius' back, keeping it there. "And you're right, I have no desire to listen to him having sex with  _other people,_ really."

"I'm never going to get over this, am I?" Marius mumbles and Feuilly pats his shoulder and then goes back to drinking his coffee.

"You will. Just don't think about it so hard. Honestly, it's not like we've ever really hid this or tried to keep it a secret, it's just…not something we've really talked about. But I don't mind, don't think that you have to pretend there's nothing going on," Feuilly gives Marius a rather gentle smile and goes back to his coffee as Marius sits up straighter and leans his elbows on the counter.

"Okay. I'll…yeah, I'll remember that," Marius laughs and runs a hand through his hair as Courfeyrac hops out of his bedroom and is reaching for Feuilly's cup before he's even fully into the kitchen.

The other man gives him a firm, "nope, get your own," and holds it out of reach as Courfeyrac pouts at him.

"I hate you. Denying me my caffeine."

"Funny, you weren't saying that last night," Feuilly looks remarkably unconcerned as he holds his cup close to his chest and Courfeyrac grumbles something unintelligible as he goes to get his own coffee.

"So we're doing breakfast, then?" he asks as he does, looking over his shoulder.

"That was the plan," Enjolras agrees with a nod, "and then after I…" he pauses as his phone goes off and reaches to grab it, sighing as he looks at the message. "Well, I hope none of you have plans for this afternoon, because it seems that Bahorel has decided we need to call an emergency meeting," he looks at Marius then. "You can come, if you want…"

"Yeah. I'd like that," Marius agrees and Enjolras nods to himself and pockets his phone again. It wouldn't necessarily be a deal-breaker in his mind if Marius  _didn't_ agree with the rest of them about the University's policies needing a huge makeover, but it did make it easier that he shared their viewpoint.

"Good. So breakfast first," he finishes off his coffee and heads for the door, knowing that the others will follow even if Courfeyrac's going to complain that he hasn't had enough time to enjoy his own coffee.

And he will. Enjolras will almost bet on that.

000

"So why the meeting?"

They're in an unused classroom, everywhere else too busy on a Sunday afternoon, and Bahorel's perched on a table with his customary cigarette dangling between his fingertips.

"I thought you'd all like to know that Lamarque's health is apparently…not good. I've talked to a few of my people and they don't know if he's ever going to be back on the board here in any official capacity, and without him…"

"We've got nobody on our side," Enjolras sighs and stands up, crossing his arms and staring out the window. "So what do we do? Stage another lunchtime protest?"

"It's a start, isn't it? I'll call the people I know and we can, well, get the word out at least," Bahorel's already scrolling through his phone as Enjolras nods.

"There isn't much else we can do at this point, not without some proper support, and if Lamarque does die I'm afraid everything we're working for is just going to fall apart," he looks both resigned and determined at the same time and while Marius knows that a lot of the others look to him as a leader of sorts, he's never really seen it in action until now and it's a completely different side of the other man than he's used to.

"I mean, we're allowed to protest? Nobody's going to stop us or…" he asks timidly because while he's been invited, he really feels out of place and mostly like he doesn't know what's going on at all.

"Well, they're not forbidden," Combeferre's still reading, a textbook in his hand that he glances over the top of to reply. "But even if somebody had a problem, they wouldn't bring it up. Not with…" he nods toward Enjolras, who snorts.

"Yes, my esteemed father whom everybody is deathly afraid of. So no, Marius, nobody will say a word against us even if they're not happy about it because they all seem to think my dad's going to take my side. He won't, but they can gladly keep thinking that," he adds with a tiny smile and Marius feels a little better about everything.

The last thing he wants is to crawl shamefully back to his grandfather because the University's kicked him out, after all.

"Don't worry so much," Courfeyrac throws an arm over his shoulders. "Trust me, you'll be fine. We've done this before."

"Okay," Marius gives his friend a weak smile because, well, protesting and going against the social grain really aren't things he's thought of doing, but he knows why this is important and why, really, it's relevant to his own interests as well.

"So I'll talk to my people and let you all know what's happening there and we can plan a date after that?" Bahorel's still looking through his phone but since nobody says anything to contradict him, he shrugs an d stands up. "Good. I'll see you guys later," he's already pulling a lighter from his pocket as he leaves the room, and the others all disperse after that.

Marius sits down at one of the now-empty tables and sighs, wondering if he's doing the right thing by getting involved. Yes, he knows that anything that's going to give more money to the students who don't have much and afford more opportunities based on talent and ambition rather than family name is only going to help, but at the same time, he's never done anything like this before.

He hears a shuffling in the corner and glances up, seeing Grantaire is still there as well, and since he's been meaning to talk to him anyway (and since it'll stop his mind from racing right now) he decides that it might be a good time to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the fic for now but it's being updated as fast as I can get inspiration and get it written, and if you have questions or want to ask about my own headcanons for this fic or anything, I'm over at apolloenjolras on tumblr :)


	11. Chapter 11

He's not exactly comfortable sliding across the floor and seating himself next to Grantaire, who looks up with eyes that are still a little unfocused even though Marius doesn't think he would be drunk in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.

But then, what does he know?

"I…hi," he starts, and it has to be the lamest thing ever, but the other man doesn't look all that put-out by him being there so he supposes that's good. "I just…I wanted to…talk to you, I guess, since we really haven't and I don't…"

"I love him," the other man replies, not really looking at Marius and his fingers tapping listlessly on the table as he stares into space, and Marius opens and closes his mouth a few times because exactly  _how_ is he supposed to respond to that?

"Um, I…you mean…"

"Don't worry, I'm not…jealous of you," Grantaire sighs. "I know that he and I would never work out, for a few reasons, and I don't even know if I love him or just the…idea of him, what he represents, but if he's happy I'm not going to hold it against you. Especially since he can't stand me on principle," it's the most Marius has ever heard him speak, but he gets the feeling that once he gets started he probably has a lot to say. "You're lucky, Marius. You've only seen the best of him."

"The best?" Marius questions, because he's not quite sure what that means either and he's forcibly reminded that really he's only known Enjolras as more than an acquaintance for a little over a week and, no, he probably _doesn't_ know that much about him yet.

"Hmm. He's so cold, sometimes, and if you never get that directed toward you you're a lucky man indeed," the way he says it implies that it's been directed at him many times, and while Marius can't say he's ever seen Enjolras be as frightening as his reputation makes him out to be, it wouldn't entirely surprise him to find out there's some truth to the stories after all.

"I think I'll be okay," Marius says, as much to reassure himself as anything. "I mean…"

"He likes you. You're already miles ahead of me," Grantaire stands up and jams his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "But I meant what I said, Marius. Even if he thinks I'm worthless that doesn't mean I'm going to hate you because he thinks you aren't," his words are confusing, a little, but they do make sense and Marius is grateful for it in the end.

"Thank you."

"Sure," Grantaire looks unconcerned as he shrugs. "You want to get coffee? Or something a little stronger? It's never too early in the day to get started, after all," he looks like he's already thinking about it and Marius feels like it would be rude to decline, even if he's still not sure how to read the other man.

"Yeah. Sure," he nods and grabs his bag before he leaves the room, feeling once again like he's almost gotten a blessing of sorts and wondering why that actually does make him feel better about everything.

000

"You didn't come home last night."

"I know that's rhetorical because I'm quite sure you keep tabs on my every waking moment," Enjolras is digging through the cupboards in their kitchen, making mental notes of the groceries they'll need for the week, and Combeferre for once doesn't have any books within arm's reach as he leans on the kitchen table and watches his friend.

"It is. There's an implied question there, though."

"If the implied question is 'did you sleep together?' I'm not going to answer," Enjolras replies in an undertone as the other man scoffs.

"Please, I'm not Courfeyrac, I don't really have that much of an interest in anybody else's sex life. And I know you didn't," he adds as Enjolras smiles to himself.

"You know me too well. But no, 'sleeping together' only meant we slept in the same bed. Fully clothed," he adds, although he knows Combeferre doesn't need that part.

"You've been fending off Courfeyrac all morning, then," he sighs fondly and all Enjolras can do is nod. "He's far too nosy when it comes to, you know. Sex."

"He is, and far too open about his  _own_ sex life as well, although hopefully that's changing for the better. I assume you know…"

"About him and Feuilly? I think we all do, even if nobody talks about it," Combeferre moves closer and looks over the other man's shoulders into the cupboards. "We're kind of low, aren't we?"

"Well, I've been running around a lot lately and you're too busy studying to take care of yourself…"

"And  _speaking_ of studying," Combeferre deflects the topic masterfully and Enjolras would be far more impressed if he didn't know what was coming next. "Your parents. Have they said anything about that test?"

"Of course they have, and I'm supposed to go home next weekend so they can shove me into another cocktail party and introduce more girls that I should date and yell at me about how I should be focusing more on my studies. Which, I'll tell you, I've done very well on every assignment since then, but I don't think that'll be enough to get them off my case," he knows he's ranting but sometimes he thinks…well, he  _knows…_ that his parents care more about the family name than about their son as his own person, and it's always going to hurt a little.

"You'll be fine. Not…planning on telling them that you've got a boyfriend, though?"

"Again with the questions you don't need answered," Enjolras turns and reaches to pat his friend's shoulder. "No, I don't think that'll go over well. And since the only good thing my name will ever get me is an inheritance, I'd rather not risk being disowned for my…apparent tendencies. Besides, it's not like Marius and I have really defined what we are…"

"Do you need to?" Combeferre looks amused. "I mean, it's not as if either of you are going to be fooling around with anybody else, but I know how scared of commitment you are…"

"I'm not…" Enjolras pauses and ducks his head, because he knows that he's at least a little intimidated by the idea of it, but not to the extent that he's letting that get in the way of…deciding what exactly he and Marius are to each other. "That's not what this is about."

"I won't pry, trust me," Combeferre assures him, squeezing his shoulder before moving away. "And as long as both of you are on the same page as far as this is concerned, there's really no rush, I suppose. Has he…asked you to put a label on what you are?"

"No, but I honestly don't know if that's because he has no desire to or because he's afraid of what my answer will be," Enjolras moves aside to jot down some items and pockets the list with a resigned sigh. "And truth be told, I don't know what the best answer to give him is."

"I think this might be one of those bridges that you'll only have to cross when you come to it," Combeferre's smiling gently at him and Enjolras has to admit that he's right, and that worrying over something he doesn't even know is going to happen isn't going to be healthy in the long run.

"Are you coming with?" Enjolras gestures toward the door as he grabs his keys and the other man looks from him to the textbooks on the table before shrugging and heading for the door, Enjolras following a moment later as he tries to stop his thoughts from turning over and over in his head.

000

"So you're dating now?"

Marius isn't quite sure how he'd ended up at Joly's, except that it was close to the coffee shop Grantaire had eventually dragged him to and although he'd promised himself he wouldn't get drunk, he hadn't thought one coffee-with-a-little-extra would harm him.

Apparently he's a lightweight, though, because the room's a little spinny and fuzzy and it's comfortable here, curled up on the couch with the kitten in his lap, the small creature seemingly happy that it had found somebody that wasn't likely to move for a while.

"I think…maybe? I dunno," Marius shrugs, because that's not something he and Enjolras had really discussed. Does making out and sleeping in the same bed equal dating?

"Well, that's something you'll have to figure out. I mean, I might not have the most…conventional relationship with Musichetta, but we do consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend and I think…I think you're the sort of guy who wouldn't be okay with just a casual relationship," he says, crossing his legs and sitting back on the loveseat as he studies the younger man, and Marius has to admit that he's right.

Yes, he might have given up on the idea of a fairytale romance, but there were some things that he still wanted and this might just be one of them.

"Is that a jab at me or just an observation?" Feuilly calls from where he's rooting around in the kitchen, and Marius should really just… _expect_ that they all frequent each other's places more often than they're actually at home, but this part of their little group is still a little odd to him.

"Not a jab," Joly replies as the other man pops his head out of the room and shrugs, crossing the floor and seating himself beside the medical student. "I somehow think if anybody mentioned the word 'boyfriend' around Courfeyrac the implications of it would have him fainting," he snickers and Feuilly smiles back at him.

"Probably. Good thing I'm not looking for a boyfriend, isn't it?" Feuilly leans his shoulder against the other man's and looks over at Marius. "But he's right, Marius, I think that you probably  _are,_ or at least looking for something a little more…emotionally connected than what Courfeyrac and I have."

"Mm, maybe," Marius knows that his filter is pretty much gone by now and maybe he should stop talking, but the words slip out of him regardless. "I mean, he's so…it's like anything I can get from him is good, you know, because he doesn't give it to anyone else and I feel  _special,_ but at the same time…"

"You should. Feel special, I mean. I've never seen him act the way he does around you with anybody else," Joly clears his throat and Marius glances up at him. "He's…well, be thankful you've only seen him at his best."

"Grantaire said the same thing earlier," Marius notes, fingers lightly stroking the kitten's head as it mewls and nudges his hand.

"Just be thankful you're on his good side. It's the best place to be," Feuilly tells him and Joly nudges the other man with his elbow.

"Like you've ever been anywhere else," he mutters and Marius lowers his head to hide his smile, because he can imagine that Enjolras probably gets annoyed at Joly's ever-increasing list of ailments.

"In any case, I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about," Feuilly stands up and jams his hands in his pockets. "I've got to head out, Jehan's got some project he needs my help with…"

"You know you can tell him 'no,'" Joly puts in, but the artist shrugs and gives him a smile.

"So people keep telling me. But I keep going anyway. See you gents later," he nods to them both and leaves, and Marius idly scratches under the kitten's chin as it bats at his sleeve, looking surprised when its little claws catch in the fabric.

"So do you, um, have any tips for  _staying_ on his good side?" he asks, a little intimidated now that everybody seems to be warning him about it.

"Just…be yourself. It's worked pretty well so far," Joly says simply, and Marius can't really argue with that, although part of him wonders if he'll start to see Enjolras in a different light if…well, probably  _when_ ….this other side of him comes out.

He's not entirely sure he's looking forward to that.


	12. Chapter 12

"You know, whenever I come over here to help you with a project somebody has to tell me that I'm not obligated to," Feuilly comments idly, looking up from where he's sketching and Jehan shrugs and puts his pen down.

"You're not, you know."

"I do. Is it so hard to believe I actually  _enjoy_ it? I mean, yes, I kind of need to paint to earn money to stay alive, but it's not something I would have chosen to pursue for all these years if I'd hated it. And it's not as if your assignments are all that complicated," he adds and Jehan rolls his eyes. "What?"

"You belong in that school, Feuilly. You know that."

"Yes, my grade nine education and I will be welcomed with open arms," he sighs and pushes the sketchpad away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "And this is all beside the point. I know you talked to Courfeyrac, and I should be mad at you…"

"But you're not," the poet smiles knowingly and Feuilly has to concede that one.

"But I'm not, because I think it…might have helped. I mean, he's been…different lately, and I don't know if I trust that he's changed entirely because nobody can change  _that_ quickly, but I think he's trying, and that's more than I ever would have asked from him," he crosses his arms, wondering how that makes him sound, but Jehan stands up and scoots around the table, pulling a chair over and sitting so they're pressed against each other.

"I know. That's why I had to do it for you," he replies, leaning his head on the other man's shoulder and Feuilly lets out his breath slowly and relaxes against the poet. "I also told him I'd get Bahorel to go after him if he ever hurts you."

"Now you've got me worried that he'll be more afraid of that than wanting to be faithful just because it's the right thing to do," Feuilly comments dryly, hearing Jehan laugh softly, because they both know that's probably not the case.

At least, he  _thinks_ he knows that.

000

"So I'm sorry I can't be around this weekend," is what Enjolras starts with, and Marius has to blink at him through the doorway because he hadn't really been expecting anybody to come over (not that, of course, he's going to turn the other man away) and he steps aside and lets Enjolras in, watching as he slips off his coat before leading him to the living room and sitting down on the sofa.

"You don't have to be. I know you've got…obligations with your parents, and I understand that, even though my own grandfather would probably just as rather never see me again," he smiles grimly at that thought and Enjolras heaves a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair, mussing it slightly.

"I know, we just don't get to see each other that often during the week and instead of being here I'll have to deal with my parents trying to set me up with every friend of the family that has a daughter about my age. Or, well, some of them haven't been all that close to my age, but you know," he wrinkles his nose and Marius stifles a laugh at that.

"This isn't my ego talking, but I'm pretty sure I don't have anything to fear from any girl out there," he reaches over slowly and lets his hand rest on the blond's knee as Enjolras ducks his head and smiles.

"No, you certainly don't, although I'm never going to explain to  _them_ why no girl will ever have a chance with me," his gaze is unfocused as he looks across the room, mind obviously somewhere else, and Marius clears his throat before asking,

"What do you think they'd…do? If they found out that you…" he trails off but Enjolras at least is looking at him again, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed as he thinks.

"Disown me, probably, although I  _am_ an only child and the only hope to carry on the family name, which of course is far more important to them than my own happiness," he mutters the last part before shrugging and seemingly moving on. "And your grandpa? If he did care, would he…"

Marius shifts himself closer and leans his head on the other man's shoulder, working through it in his mind and stifling a chuckle at the conclusion he eventually comes to. "Actually, I think he might approve. I mean, I don't know how he feels about…two guys being together, but he's my mother's father so we don't share the same last name anyway, and all he ever really cared about was me marrying somebody with a lot of money and a good family name and you…" he nudges his nose against the older man's neck and Enjolras sighs good-naturedly.

"Well, I have both of those. It's funny how the world works, isn't it?" he sounds like he's talking to himself again. He's far too upright on the couch, body tense, and Marius is struck with a sudden thought that most boyfriends…or whatever they were…when they're alone with nobody else around would probably be doing  _much_ more than just sitting there.

And, truth be told, he kind of wants that. He might have been drunk out of his mind the first time they'd made out, but that doesn't stop him from remembering that what he'd been coherent enough to recognize had been, well, really good, and it's definitely an experience he wants to repeat without any alcohol clouding his mind.

"You know…" he starts, trailing off because it's not like he's any expert at being seductive and he'll probably say something horribly embarrassing if he keeps going, but Enjolras at least  _looks_ at him now and he gulps and keeps talking. "We, um, we're alone. For now. And I thought…well, you know, it's not like we…and you're going to be gone…"

"Marius."

The word stops him in his tracks, his fumbling words trailing off as he blinks a few times and squeaks out, "Yes?"

"If you want to…you know, make out, you can…just ask. Really. I'm not…I'd like that. I mean, from what I recall from that first night, we both enjoyed it," he adds, needlessly because Marius  _definitely_ had enjoyed it, but somehow it had been…easier, then, when there were no inhibitions and no real rational thought behind it.

"I mean…yes. I would. Do we just…" he flails his hands a little uselessly and then laughs, awkwardly ducking his head as Enjolras nudges him gently with his shoulder.

"I think, Marius, that this might work a little better if we don't over-complicate it. Lie down," he says firmly and Marius scrambles to comply, because he doesn't think anybody could resist a direct order from Enjolras. He's not sure if that's a good thing, really, but right now they're definitely on the same page so he's going to go with it.

"Is this okay?" he all but squeaks as Enjolras shifts up to his knees, leaning down and splaying out again so their lower bodies are beside each other and he's holding himself up, so close but yet still not close enough.

"Yeah. You can touch me, you know," he's smiling a little, just a tiny quirk of his lips and there's a tightness to his posture that tells Marius he's not as relaxed as he's trying to come off as, but he thinks maybe, well,  _not_ worrying and throwing caution to the wind are what's going to be the best in this case.

Plus, he  _technically_ has permission, and he's going to take full advantage of that.

Raising his arms, he lightly spreads his hands across the other man's back, feeling Enjolras shiver as he slides his fingers upward, gently trailing through soft golden hair. "Is that…can I…"

"Yes, just… _yes,"_ Enjolras looks impatient and Marius figures that they've fumbled their way around this for long enough, so he tightens his grip a little as the other man groans softly and leans down, finally slotting their lips together and it's…

Familiar. Well, of course they'd kissed at the club that night, but everything changes when there's nobody else around and there's no loud music or lights or  _anything_ to distract from what they're doing, but either his subconscious remembers things from the party or else he's not quite as hopeless at this as he'd first feared.

"Marius," Enjolras sounds mildly annoyed and Marius opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) and blinks up. "You're thinking too hard. Stop it."

And once again he finds it almost impossible to ignore what's pretty much an order and tries to comply, letting his body relax into it. One of his hands is still in the other man's hair as he lets his other trail down Enjolras' back, moving purely on instinct when he pushes his shirt up a little and touches warm, smooth, bare skin under his fingertips.

Enjolras lets out a surprised gasp followed by a low groan and that seems to break the last bit of awkwardness between them because then they're  _kissing,_ and it's messy and loud and there's absolutely no finesse involved, not anymore, just a mix of teeth and tongues and lips and it would probably be embarrassing if it weren't for how warm his body was and how utterly  _right_ it feels (and yeah, if he'd had any lingering questions about whether he really could be attracted to a guy, this kind of blew them all out of the water).

He doesn't know how long they keep at it for, stopping only to breathe before diving in again, but he jerks back to reality rather harshly when he hears the door slam and a panicked, "holy fuck you guys had better not be doing what I think you're doing  _that is my couch!"_

Marius groans and ducks his head, putting his hands over his face so he doesn't have to deal with this and he can't really  _move_ anywhere with Enjolras still pinning him down, but the other man recovers much more quickly than he does.

"Like you've never done anything questionable on here," Enjolras replies with a snort, still not moving, and Courfeyrac comes into the living room and shrugs.

"No. Well, not  _that,_ that's why they invented  _beds,_ and even if I had…it's  _my couch_ ," he repeats, leaning over and poking Marius in the shoulder. "I think you broke him."

"Marius, it's fine, it's not like he's never done this before," Enjolras sounds vaguely amused and Marius peeks out at him, his cheeks probably beet-red as he lowers his hands.

"And for future reference, if I find you guys doing that in any public place in this house ever again, you're going to have two choices: either you let me join or I pull out my phone and start taping you," Courfeyrac shrugs and Marius knows he's being deadly serious. "So, unless you want either of those things to happen, keep it on your bed. Not that it's a bad sight, by the way," he adds with a wink and a smirk and Marius feels vaguely uncomfortable even though he should really just  _expect_ this from Courfeyrac by now.

Enjolras heaves a sigh and finally sits up properly, his hair unruly as he tries to flatten it down a little, and turns to smile at Marius. "Well, as much as I hate the interruption, it's probably needed. I should get going if I want to get…to my parents' at a decent time," he stands up and Marius scrambles up after him, his legs feeling a little wobbly. "I'll see you on Monday? Sunday evening, maybe?" Enjolras looks hopeful and Marius nods quickly. "Good."

"And you can, you know, call me or Skype me or whatever if you want to talk…" Marius blurts out, worried he's being too forward, but Enjolras smiles at him and leans in, kissing him softly before squeezing his hand and slipping out of the room.

Marius stares after him for a few moments, what's probably an incredibly dopey smile on his face, before he sees Courfeyrac move out of the corner of his eye and holds up his hand. "Don't," he says firmly, retreating to his room before the other man can say anything.

Because he  _knows_ he's going to.


	13. Chapter 13

"You're not at the  _Musain."_

Marius looks up hurriedly and closes his book, setting it off to the side as he stares at the two people in front of him. He's sitting in one of the rarely used study halls, knowing that as it's Saturday night the others will all be at the club and so he's not really expecting to be disturbed. "No, and you aren't, either," he points out.

"Because we've been sent to fetch you," Bossuet sniffs, crossing his arms and looking around. "This is depressing, Marius. Even Combeferre can put his books down for a few hours, and just because your boyfriend's not around…"

"I..." Marius pauses. "I mean…"

"You don't have to be dating somebody to go and have a good time, you know," Musichetta puts in, leaning down and patting his shoulder. "I'll dance with you if you want. Just don't take  _him_  up if he offers because something's going to get broken and it's probably going to be one of your toes," she winks and Bossuet frowns at her before shrugging.

"Anyway, we miss you and we want you to come out with us, so you're coming," Bossuet grabs the book out of Marius' reach and holds it behind his back, nearly tripping over a chair as he tries to back away without looking.

"Please? It'll be fun," Musichetta holds out a hand and Marius takes it with a sigh, standing up and letting her lead him from the room. "Besides, we've got time on the walk over for you to tell us about you and Enjolras making out on the couch…"

"Did Courfeyrac really tell you about that?" Marius groans, because it's expected, but he still hopes that his roommate would let him have a  _little_ privacy.

Apparently that's too much to ask for, though.

"Of course he did. But I'm sure he exaggerated, so we want to hear your side of it," Bossuet claps him on the shoulder and Marius, realizing that he probably can't get out of this one, sighs and decides to tell them as they make their way over to the club.

000

"You came!" Jehan hops out of his seat as soon as they enter and all but tugs Marius over, sitting down again and pulling the young man beside him. "We didn't know if they'd convince you or not."

"It didn't take that much convincing. I just stole his textbook," Bossuet's still holding it and waving it around and Marius reaches to grab it back because Bossuet, a book, and a room full of drinks that could easily spill onto said book are not a good combination.

Especially considering that, since it's Bossuet, the chances of an accident happening increase by about a million times.

"Well, we're glad you're here. You're always welcome, you know," Jehan pats his leg and Marius smiles at the poet, because he  _does_ know but it's still nice to hear at times.

His phone buzzing in his pockets distracts him momentarily and he takes it out and reads the text, hiding a smile and a tiny laugh by shaking his head and trying not to look too pleased that Enjolras has been keeping him updated all weekend so far (in short, he's not enjoying himself and still not interested in any girls his parents are trying to set him up with, but that's not a surprise).

"I know that look," Musichetta leans in, her long hair falling in front of her face and tickling Marius' wrist as she looks at his phone. "I'm sure I used to look the same way when I started dating Joly. It fades after a while once the shine wears off, don't worry," she adds, getting an indignant " _Hey!"_ from the medical student in question.

"I know, I just…"

"Young love," Jehan sighs, as if he's  _not_ the same age as the rest of them. "It's a beautiful thing."

"Hardly love," Marius shrugs and sets the phone down, because he's never really thought of it in terms of that and somehow he has a feeling that Enjolras  _really_ hasn't. "Just…"

"Don't kill it before it has a chance to blossom, Marius," Jehan says firmly, fingers tapping the tabletop idly as he stares dreamily into the distance. "Embrace it, and nurture it, and wait and see what happens."

"Yeah," Marius gives the other man a smile because he knows that he's, well, a little too enamored with the idea of romance himself but he's trying to keep himself more realistic where Enjolras is concerned.

"You're both still to obsessed with love," Courfeyrac leans forward and he looks like he's already had a few drinks, his gaze a little unfocused even as he's staring at them. "Honestly, Marius, I don't know how you can even say you're in a relationship if you haven't even had sex. That's kind of what's important, you know," he grins then and leans back on Feuilly's shoulder, even though the other man is giving him a look that's decidedly unfriendly and he mumbles something and slides out of the booth, hands jammed in his pockets as he heads for the door.

Marius and Jehan move at almost the same time but Bahorel waves his hand at them. "I'll take care of it. Don't let him drink anything else," he gestures to Courfeyrac, who seems blissfully unaware that he's said anything that could be construed as problematic, and Marius knows that he doesn't mean it but he's still proving to be really, really hesitant when it comes to commitment and admitting he's capable of more than sexual feelings toward somebody.

And it's starting to get him into trouble.

000

"You know he's a fucking idiot," is what Bahorel decides to start with, because he's come to realize that for as smart as Courfeyrac is, and for as good as he is at human interaction, there are some aspects of it that he's either, well, horribly bad at or just afraid to let show.

"I'm realizing," Feuilly's leaning against the wall, head tipped back and staring up at the starry sky. Bahorel leans back beside him and lights up a cigarette, inhaling gratefully and blowing some smoke out into the crisp air. He holds it out without looking and Feuilly accepts it and takes his own drag before passing it back. "I know he's not serious…I mean, I hope he's not, and it's not like I'm expecting some great romance, but…"

"But sometimes he makes it sound like all there is between you is sex," Bahorel says, frowning because he's not sure how to counter that one. "And you don't want to talk to him about it."

"How do I bring it up without sounding like I'm asking for something I'm not?" Feuilly looks to the side and laughs bitterly. "I should just be happy with what I have, I suppose. It's not as if I'm in any position to make demands."

"Hey," Bahorel says sternly, tapping some ash off the cigarette before nudging the other man with his elbow. "Take it from me: I've been around longer than any of you and there are some things in life that you're just entitled to demand. Matters of the heart? That's one of them."

"Yes, because you're such an old man," Feuilly mutters but Bahorel snorts in reply and elbows him again. "Okay. I…you know Jehan threatened that you would beat him up if he was unfaithful?"

"He never talked to me about that one. But I will," he adds and Feuilly nods, looking back up at the sky and sighing heavily. The door behind them opens and Bahorel turns, watching as Marius slips out and gives them both a tentative smile.

"Hey."

"Want some?" Bahorel holds out the cigarette, knowing the answer as Marius shakes his head quickly while Feuilly reaches back over and snags it for himself. "What brings you out here, then, young master Pontmercy?" he asks and Marius looks between them both before laughing nervously.

"I'm sure you already know it. I just wanted some air because I was getting…well, a little tired of getting asked the same question a hundred times about Enjolras and…yeah," he's blushing and Bahorel can tell even in the dim light of the alley. "And I thought you two…"

"Know how to let private business stay private business? Yeah, we're good at that," Bahorel knows that Marius still seems a little wary of him and he rather likes the boy so he's hopeful that he'll lose some of that fear soon. "So, seeing as how the topic has been brought up tonight, what do  _you_ think is the most important in a relationship?"

"Oh, I…" Marius shrugs. "I don't think there are  _rules,_ you know? I mean, as long as both parties…or all parties…or whatever…are happy? That should be the only 'rule', right?" he looks like he's seeking some sort of approval but Bahorel privately thinks that there's a few people he knows that could benefit from having the type of wisdom that Marius doesn't even seem aware that he possesses.

"It should be," Feuilly says, body slumped against the wall like he's exhausted, and Marius looks away.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow. I mean, if you want me to?"

"It can't hurt, anyway. And that's one conversation I'll probably never be able to have myself. I think I'm finally starting to realize that…you know, having people help me doesn't mean I'm weak," he admits, and Bahorel knows that it's quite the admission to make because Feuilly is nothing if not fiercely independent.

"Of course you aren't. I don't think anybody would ever call you weak," he says honestly, seeing the barest hint of a smile on the other man's lips. "But speaking of, since we're all agreed to let Marius off the hook about his love life, I've been wondering…for all of Courfeyrac's talk about how wonderful a lover he is…"

"Is he  _all_  talk or is there some truth to it?" Feuilly looks sideways and then shakes his head. "No, he's…he's not exaggerating. He's quite…I have no complaints," he settles on, sounding more than a little flustered, and Bahorel figures that's all the answer he needs.

It's not like he wants details, anyway.

000

"How much of a fucking idiot am I?"

Marius looks over his shoulder as Courfeyrac slumps out of the bedroom the next morning, rubbing his temples and collapsing on the stool next to the young man. He certainly looks worse for wear and Marius knows he should probably offer him coffee, or at least an aspirin, but he's not really sure the other man deserves it quite yet.

"From what I hear, a rather large one."

"Oh, God," Courfeyrac groans and drops his head onto his arms, one eye blearily peeking out at the laptop Marius has got set up on the counter. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I'm not allowed to Skype with my boyfriend?" Marius asks, seeing Enjolras' eyebrow raise at the word but he figures it's true enough that he can use it now, at least around their friends.

"No, you're not allowed to sic your boyfriend on me like some sort of rabid Hellhound," Courfeyrac replies in a low voice, and Marius tries to stop himself from blushing because, well, that's about what had happened. They'd been texting that morning and of course what had happened at the  _Musain_ had just kind of, well, slipped out, and after Enjolras demanded to talk to Courfeyrac…this was the easiest solution. "So, somebody tell me what I said and I'll see how I can fix this."

"Well, um," Marius fidgets a little, biting his lower lip as he tries to find the right words for it. "You…pretty much…well…"

"You implied that relationships should be based on sex above anything else and that if you're  _not_ having sex it doesn't pay to call it a relationship at all," Enjolras puts in, and Marius can feel his displeasure radiating even though the computer screen.

"Fuck," Courfeyrac says eloquently, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning. "That's…I didn't mean…"

"Tell that to him, not us. He's pretty upset," Marius finally relents a little because, well, he's rather sympathetic by nature, and lets his hand rest on Courfeyrac's back, rubbing gently. "I mean, as upset as he gets."

"He knows he means more to me than that, I mean…we see each other all the time, it's not like I'm using him for…"

"Again, we're not the ones that need to hear this," Enjolras cuts the other man off and Courfeyrac pouts at the screen for a moment or two before sighing.

"I know. And I'm….where is he? Bahorel's?"

"Probably," Marius doesn't exactly know where Feuilly went, but he's sure that he didn't go home, not on a Saturday night.

"I'll go there first," he decides, looking almost nervous and not at all like his usual self, before he grabs his wallet and keys and slides out the door.

"So," Marius turns back to the screen, knowing they should change the topic because it's really all in Courfeyrac's hands now, and clears his throat. "When are you leaving to come back here?"

"As soon as I can. I think my parents want to shove me into one last lunch party to meet  _just one more girl_ but they've been…at least a little gentler and less insistent this time. I'm not believing it's because they're trusting me to make my own decisions, however," he adds bitterly and Marius nods in understanding. "Is that question a subtle hidden request for me to come over when I get back?"

"Would you be interested?" Marius asks, because he knows that they're well past the point of such formal plans but he's still afraid of overstepping.

"I would be," Enjolras smiles at him before he turns his head at a noise off-screen and moves out of sight for a minute, coming back looking more disgruntled than before. "They're calling me for lunch. I'll see you when I get there?"

"Yeah. See you later."

He ends the call and Marius realizes a few moments later that he's still staring at the screen with a smile on his face even though there's really nothing to look at, and he starts to wonder if maybe Jehan's words the night before aren't closer to the truth than he's letting himself admit.

Because the last thing he wants is to believe there's something deeper when there really isn't.


	14. Chapter 14

"No," Bahorel says as soon as he gets to the door, standing with his arm stretched from one side of the frame to the other. "You're not barging in here spouting apologies that we both know you don't fully mean."

"I  _do_ mean them!" Courfeyrac protests, because he  _does_ , even though…well, he's doing a shitty job of proving that, really.

"And I believe you. Mostly. But just…give him some time. He's pissed, and he has a right to be, and you know that him being angry isn't something that happens too often," he notes, crossing his arms and looking at least a little less tense.

And Courfeyrac relents, because he knows that's true. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and sighs heavily, looking down at the ground. "He's okay, though?"

"He's fine. Give him space for a while," Bahorel makes it sound like an order and Courfeyrac can't say much to counter that. "You can handle that, right?"

"I'm not patient, you know," Courfeyrac smiles weakly but knows that he really has no choice this time around. "But yeah, he's…he's worth waiting for."

"Good," Bahorel gives him an appraising look, like he's just said something that's upped his worth in the other man's eyes, and it makes him feel at least a little bit better about everything.

He knows he's still an idiot, but hopefully he can change that for good this time.

…Yeah. Hopefully.

000

"We can't do this here…"

"Is he going to be back soon?"

"I don't know, he left this morning and he…mm, God…I didn't think he'd be gone this long but…it's a good thing he is…"

"We can move to your bed," Enjolras is staring down at him, blue eyes darker than Marius is used to seeing them and he has to admit that nearly getting jumped when he opened the door had  _not_ been in any of his plans (but he's not complaining, he's  _definitely_ not complaining).

"Okay."

It comes out a whisper, because somehow taking this into his bedroom seems so much more intimate than just doing it on the living room couch, but he knows that Courfeyrac won't ever let it go if he catches them here again and he doesn't especially want to deal with that.

They're still half-clutching at each other as they stumble into Marius' room, the younger man kicking the door closed just in case, and once he's on his back on the bed his hands are rucking Enjolras' shirt up and slipping up his back, somehow unable to stop himself.

They're still kissing, they haven't ever really  _stopped_ kissing, and it's only when he realizes that this could go really,  _really_ far that he pressed a hand against Enjolras' chest and the other man stops immediately, blinking down at him.

"Something wrong?"

"We just…we need to talk. About sex," Marius clarifies and Enjolras nods reluctantly and sits back, crossing his arms.

"It's amazing how the words 'we need to talk about sex' can utterly ruin the mood," he mutters, although Marius can tell he's not actually upset, but this isn't really territory they've covered and he wants to be prepared.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just…neither of us really have any experience and…"

"We can always ask Courfeyrac," Enjolras points out and Marius groans, flopping back on his pillow. "I mean, there's always the Internet. Or, you know, Feuilly."

"It'd still be awkward," Marius grumbles, "and I don't trust half the stuff I find on Google. But I don't want this to…I mean, if it gets there, I don't want it to be some big  _thing_ where we have no idea what we're doing or how far we're comfortable going, and…"

"Hey," Enjolras crawls up the bed to lie down beside him, half-hovering over him as he looks down. "Don't worry so much. And don't…you're not really hung up on what Courfeyrac said last night, are you? About sex being a crucial part of a relationship?"

"Of course not. I know that his…view of the world is a little different than how most people feel," Marius laughs and reaches to run his hands through the other man's hair, tugging him down into a brief kiss. "But we still…"

"Shouldn't worry about that, because I think we both know that whatever we have now is enough," Enjolras sounds completely firm and Marius has to admit that, well, it kind of  _is,_ and if it does go farther he's pretty sure they're both too careful to do anything without researching it first…one way or another.

Although still, he thinks as he pulls Enjolras down and into another searing kiss, asking Courfeyrac is going to be his last,  _last_ resort in that case.

000

They're both half-asleep when the front door finally slams open, and they can hear Courfeyrac muttering from inside the bedroom even through the closed door.

Which, of course, soon becomes a very open door as Courfeyrac disregards his own policy about knocking and just barges right in, blinking slowly as he takes them in before shrugging and flopping back on the bed beside them.

"Courfeyrac, get off," Marius slurs out, hearing Enjolras make an annoyed little sound, but Courfeyrac turns onto his side and moves closer, completely ignoring the need for personal space (although, really, that's hardly unusual with him). "What's wrong?"

"He hates me."

"He doesn't  _hate_ you," Enjolras finally cracks one eye open. "Just give him time."

"That's what Bahorel said, too."

"So listen to him. I think, this time, he knows what he's talking about," Enjolras sounds like he wants this conversation to be over immediately but Courfeyrac isn't moving. "Do you want me to talk to Feuilly?"

"Yeah. I know he'll be honest with you," Courfeyrac decides after a while, although it sounds like it pains him to ask Enjolras a favor like this. "I mean, if it's no trouble…"

"I'm not going to make you pay me back, don't worry," Enjolras sighs and finally moves enough so that he can look at Courfeyrac. "I know you're serious about this, but you really need to think before you say anything. And being drunk isn't an excuse."

"This from the man who now has a boyfriend simply because he got drunk," Courfeyrac mutters and Marius has to admit that, yeah, that's kind of true, but he's willing to bet that's a pretty rare occurrence.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Okay, okay, fine," Courfeyrac waves a hand vaguely before curling into Marius' side.

"…You're not leaving us alone tonight, are you," Marius knows the answer which is why doesn't really ask it like a question.

"Nope."

"I should go anyway. I know Combeferre will want to quiz me on what exactly happened this weekend and I should probably tell him in person instead of sending texts all night," Enjolras sits up and moves so his legs are hanging off the bed, looking back at Marius and smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow at some point?"

"Yeah. Probably. Text me," Marius says, nudging Courfeyrac off so that he can sit up and kiss Enjolras again.

They keep it brief, though, because they know Courfeyrac's probably already scrambling for his phone, and Enjolras gets up and has left the room by the time he's come up with it.

"Aw, you guys aren't any fun," he sighs and shoves it back in his pocket before flopping back against the pillows, and Marius lies down after a moment as well and stares up at the ceiling, his lips curling up into a smile because yes, despite the interruption tonight had been, well, pretty amazing.

"Tell me everything," Courfeyrac demands after barely a minute of silence, and Marius should really just  _expect_ this by now but he figures he's got no choice so he shrugs in resignation and starts to talk.

000

"I'm not mad at him."

"I told him that, but you know how he is," Enjolras sounds vaguely annoyed, which isn't entirely unusual, but Feuilly knows that he's probably doing this on Courfeyrac's behalf one way or another and he's more or less okay with that.

"Yes, well, he tends to be more dramatic than the situation calls for," Feuilly turns himself on the couch, looking out at the darkening sky and knowing that he should get going soon if he wants to make it home before it gets too late. He'd been hoping that with the weather getting colder and winter approaching that the guys who hung out in front of his place would move on or at least find someplace warmer, but that hasn't happened yet.

"Understatement of the year," Combeferre mutters from where he's seated at the table, getting up and moving over to the living room before he sits down next to Feuilly on the couch. "How long are you going to make him suffer?"

"It's not really suffering, I just…you know, need to convince myself that if I'm not around for a few days he won't go back to finding random hook-ups," he responds, shifting so that his feet are tucked under him and turning to look out the window again. "Why? Is he being that annoying?"

"No more than usual, probably. Although I think Marius is getting fed up," Enjolras smiles and Feuilly makes a humming noise that he hopes conveys a mixture of sympathy and agreement, because he can easily imagine how grating it must be.

"Well, I'll talk to him tomorrow and hopefully we can put this behind us. But I need to get going, it's late and the sooner I get home at this point, the better," he unfurls himself and stands up.

"I'll drive you. Less chance of anything happening that way," Enjolras offers immediately, even though Feuilly doesn't really live that far, but he supposes he should appreciate it regardless.

"Yeah. Thanks," he waits for the other man to grab his keys and his coat and waves to Combeferre, who calls out after them, "if they're set up in front of your door just come back here for the night," and Feuilly wonders if he maybe shouldn't just do that anyway.

But still. Better to, well,  _not_ be afraid of his own home.

They end up parking about a block away, just so nobody decides to approach Enjolras' car in the meantime (something that's, of course, equal parts sporty and functional and probably worth more than Feuilly will ever make in his entire life) and head toward the ramshackle building in the darkness.

They can hear the men before they see them, not yet close enough for the fire's glow to reach them but sound carries between the buildings and it's loud even where they are. "Are you sure you don't want to stay at our place?"

"I'm just going to get close enough to see where they're set up tonight…if they're on the far side of the building I'll be in my room before they can even stand up, but if they're too close to my door I'll come back with you," he promises, knowing that Enjolras isn't trying to coddle him but he's still got a rather fierce independent streak and it's being tested something awful right now.

"Okay," Enjolras agrees after a moment of silence and they continue to move toward the building, looking around the corner as Feuilly exhales in relief because thankfully tonight they've decided to stay at the back end of the parking lot.

"We should be okay," he whispers, although he instinctively reaches down to check that the pocketknife he always carries is easily accessible (honestly, he knows that living in a place where you need to arm yourself to get to your front door isn't ideal, but it's what he's got right now). Eyes darting around, he heads toward his door, hearing Enjolras follow, and he's got the key in the lock before he registers that something isn't quite right.

The slight scrape of a booted foot on the gravel-littered ground is the only warning they have before the other man is on them, but Feuilly figures he's got to be exceptionally drunk or exceptionally stupid (or both) to try and take on the two of them at once, and Feuilly at least has the advantage of being a lot more agile than their assailant.

He ducks under the other man's arm and brings his knee up sharply, hearing a sharp intake of breath before bracing his back against the doorframe and kicking out as hard as he can, the already-winded man landing on his back on the pavement as Feuilly draws his knife and leans over him.

"We don't have any money and you're trespassing on private property, so unless you want to spend some time in a jail cell I suggest you get out of here. Now," he knows the men are cowards, and that if anybody puts up a fight they'll run like scared dogs, and luckily he's not proven wrong this time as the man scrambles to his feet and lurches drunkenly away, the commotion not even enough to draw the attention of the ones still gathered around the fire.

"Well, that was…exciting," Enjolras sounds much less composed than usual and Feuilly turns around quickly, knowing immediately that something's wrong. " 'm okay, he had…you're not the only one that carries a knife around, I don't even think he was aiming for…" he stumbles and clutches at the door as Feuilly grabs his arm, heaving it over his shoulders and trying to stay as calm as he can when he sees the growing bloodstain on the blond's coat.

"Come on. Can you walk?" he asks brusquely and Enjolras sets his jaw and nods, and it's a bit of a shuffle to get them back to the car, Enjolras breathing heavily with the effort and starting to shiver a bit. "Give me the keys."

"You can't…you don't have…do you know…"

"I'll figure it out," Feuilly's mentally kicking himself because no, he can't drive, but there's no way he's letting Enjolras get behind the wheel with a stab wound or…whatever he's dealing with right now.

"Too dangerous, I'll…"

"I can do it."

Feuilly's already on edge from before and he whips around, knife out before he even realizes who's speaking.

"Woah, hey, easy. I can…I'll drive."

"You're not too drunk?"

And it's amazing how scathing Enjolras can sound even now but Grantaire shakes his head and Feuilly knows he's telling the truth. "I was just on my way to the bar. I'll drive."

"Thank God," Feuilly sighs and helps Enjolras into the back of the car, not liking how pale he looks, before getting in beside him and keeping him upright. "We need to get to the hospital…"

"No. No hospitals. Take me home, Combeferre will…" Enjolras cuts off with a groan and leans farther into Feuilly's side. "The last thing I need right now is my parents…finding out about this."

"Okay," Feuilly agrees hesitantly, not really feeling up to arguing with somebody as stubborn as Enjolras right now. "But if you pass out on me we're going to the hospital, so stay awake."

Enjolras nods, biting his lip and wincing as he shifts, and Feuilly  _really_ wants to take a look and see how badly he's injured but he can't risk doing anything that's going to hurt the other man more.

"I'll text Joly and see if he can come over," he says instead, needing  _something_ to keep himself busy as Grantaire starts the car and pulls away from the curb, and Enjolras is braced against his shoulder, his breathing too fast and too shallow but he's awake and alive and right now that's as good as it's going to get.


	15. Chapter 15

"It could have been worse."

"Everything can always be worse," Joly washes his hands and shakes them dry, hopping to sit on the counter and yawning as he stretches his back. "You know if I don't get my allotted six to eight hours of sleep…"

"You'll die. Yes, I've heard," Combeferre does smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, though, because he's fairly sure even Joly doesn't believe half of the ailments that come out of his own mouth. "God, I had a feeling when they left tonight that something was going to happen, but…"

"Now  _you_ sound like me," the medical student leans over and pats his shoulder. "He'll be okay. It really was just a scratch."

"A very large scratch that caused him to lose a lot of blood, and there's no telling if that knife blade was clean so we'll have to be on the lookout for any signs of infection, but…" he rubs his temples and decides that he needs to sleep for a long time.

"He's the strongest man I know. He'll be  _fine,"_ Joly stresses and Combeferre has to smile because he's not used to being reassured by the other man. "But go, get some sleep. You look like you need it more than I do and I can look after him for a few hours," he offers and Combeferre's ready to take him up on that, seeing as how he's nearly dead on his feet already.

"Only if you're sure," he's already yawning and heading toward the living room, and he stops at the sight of Feuilly curled up on the couch covered by a spare blanket, knowing that he's going to blame himself somehow and wishing that he wouldn't because honestly, it's nobody's fault what happened.

He steps over to the sofa and adjusts the blanket slightly, Feuilly frowning and burrowing deeper into its warmth, and smiles before heading into his bedroom for the night.

000

"No, I need to stay here," Joly's still sitting on the counter, heels knocking idly against the cabinet doors as he talks on the phone. "I think you can come over in the morning but he's asleep now anyway."

"So you're saying that Musichetta and I can…" Bossuet trails off and Joly looks skyward for strength before replying in as even a tone as he can muster:

"Enjolras got stabbed tonight and you're thinking about sex."

"I'm just joking, God," Bossuet laughs merrily. "Honestly, you're too serious. He'll be fine, right?"

"He should be, yes," he admits, looking over at Enjolras who's asleep on the makeshift bed they've constructed out of the rest of the spare blankets and pillows and built up in the kitchen.

"I bet you were brilliant," Bossuet says then, sounding proud, and Joly can't help his smile as he tightens his fingers around the phone.

"I think I handled myself admirably."

"Probably more than you're giving yourself credit for. But I have to go, your cat has decided he's hungry and is clawing at my leg and…" there's a yelp and a crash and Joly rolls his eyes.

"Don't hurt my cat."

"Your cat is a demon-spawn. I'm going to feed it before it shreds my pants open. We'll come over in the morning, okay?" he asks, and Joly can hear him digging around for the cat food as he tries to stop his laughter from bubbling up.

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Love you."

"I'd love you more if you take the cat with you when you leave the house," Bossuet grumbles before saying goodbye and hanging up, and Joly's barely taken the phone away from his ear when Grantaire stumbles into the kitchen, blinking against the harsh light and looking at Enjolras.

"Is he…"

"Sleeping. He'll be fine, but…thank you. For helping tonight," he clarifies, and Grantaire shrugs and sits down on the floor beside where Enjolras is lying.

"Not like I could just walk by and not help. He's special, you know, even if he thinks I'm dirt. I'd never…I want him to like me," he's still sober…well, probably, Joly thinks…and he rambles enough on a regular basis but he seems to keep his thoughts about Enjolras close to his chest normally.

"I do like you," Enjolras says suddenly and Joly nearly falls off the counter because he'd had no idea the other man was awake. "And I have to thank you as well; I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been there tonight," he admits, and Grantaire looks a little amazed, like he can't quite believe the words coming from Enjolras' mouth right at that moment.

"You…I mean…" Grantaire looks surprisingly lost for words and Enjolras gives him a tiny smile before trying to sit upright.

"Don't move," Joly hops off the counter and firmly pushes him back down. "I know it probably doesn't hurt now but it's going to as soon as the pain medication wears off, and I don't want to give you any more for a few hours," he warns and Enjolras glares at him (even though it hardly holds the heat his looks normally do) but settles down, turning his head to the side instead.

"I'm sorry for lashing out earlier. I was shocked and in pain and I took it out on you because I guess I think of you as an easy target which…isn't excusable in the least, and you didn't have to help me tonight but you did and that says a lot," he sounds exhausted and Joly can't blame him, although it's obvious he needs to get this off his chest before he sleeps for any longer.

"It's fine," Grantaire shrugs. "I know I haven't done much to prove to you why you should like me, even though I kind of always wished you would."

"And I have no idea why you  _still_ like me after the way I've treated you," Enjolras grimaces and tries to sit up again as Joly gives him a pointed look and he reluctantly settles back down. "But thank you. Again," he closes his eyes and lies back, grimacing a little.

"How bad is it?" Grantaire asks, still quiet as if he's afraid anything he says might set Enjolras off again, but the blond just shakes his head and sighs, fingers tightening in the blanket covering his body.

"Not horrible. But it's going to get worse, and I think I should try to fall asleep before it does, especially if I can't…get anything for a while to dull it," he rests his free hand over his stomach and it's probably the most vulnerable Joly has ever seen him (although he's got a good feeling that Enjolras often goes out of his way to do whatever he can to  _not_ look vulnerable).

"Sleeping's probably a good idea," Joly agrees and Enjolras glances at him briefly before closing his eyes once more and shifting ever-so-slightly, sighing once he gets as comfortable as he's probably going to. "You don't have to stay here," he whispers to Grantaire, who's still staring at Enjolras in something resembling utter awe.

"I want to. If that's okay. I mean, if I'm not in the way or anything…"

"You're not, don't worry," Joly claps him on the shoulder and goes back to hop on the counter, knowing that it's going to be a long night.

000

Enjolras wakes up to hushed whispers, his eyes slitting open as he takes in the source of the sound, and while he's not quite sure what they're discussing Joly looks ready to collapse from fatigue and Enjolras knows he's probably been awake all night for his sake.

"Get some rest. I'm sure I can handle anybody that comes over," Combeferre holds the other man's arm and physically steers him toward the kitchen door, and Joly looks about to interrupt before he yawns, staggering a little and bracing himself on the wall. "I mean it. Sleep. You've done more than enough."

Joly nods and stumbles out of the kitchen as Enjolras tries to sit up (and he knows it's a bad idea, of course he does, but that doesn't stop him) and ends up letting out a little squeak of pain that he'll deny if anybody asks him about it.

"Painkillers?" Combeferre asks and Enjolras can only nod, sharp jabs lancing through his side as he grits his teeth and holds the blanket as tightly as he can. "Here, these should hold you for a few hours at least," he looks like he hasn't slept all that much either but Enjolras gratefully takes the pills and the proffered glass of water. "Are you up to having visitors?"

"I have a feeling they'd all come whether I was or not," Enjolras says, his voice hoarse, and he drinks more water before clearing his throat. "Who's coming?"

"Joly just said he contacted 'everybody', so your guess is as good as mine," Combeferre sits down on the floor beside him, his eyes roving over where Grantaire's still seated, half-propped up by the kitchen table legs as he sleeps. "This is surprising."

"He helped us out a lot last night. I think I owe it to him…and maybe to myself…to give him a chance," he says honestly, because Grantaire could have easily left them be the night before (and, with the way Enjolras had verbally abused him, probably should have) but sticking around if nothing proved he's as stubborn and loyal as any of them and really, that's all Enjolras can ask for in an ally. He pauses then, narrowing his eyes as he moves his hand over his stomach. "Do you…did Joly say if he told Marius?"

"Not specifically, but I'm going to assume. Why? Are you worried he's going to freak out?" Combeferre asks honestly and Enjolras shrugs.

"No, I know he can handle this but he's…you know, I don't need anybody to mother me or take care of me, and I don't want him thinking I'm weak for…"

"Enjolras,  _you got stabbed,"_ Combeferre says slowly and clearly as if Enjolras doesn't already know that. "You deserve to be taken care of a little, and trust me, that boy loves you enough to do it properly."

"Love," Enjolras scoffs, because while he knows that Marius is probably more prone to falling in love than he himself is, he doubts they're anywhere  _near_ there yet.

"You don't have to believe me, but…" Combeferre stops as a knock sounds at the door and he goes to open it, smiling when Jehan enters with a take-out tray full of coffee cups and Bahorel follows, looking much less chipper.

"I wanted to bring alcohol but he said no," the man says by way of greeting, looking down at Enjolras as Jehan sets the coffee on the counter and kneels beside the injured man, touching his shoulder lightly.

"I said 'no' because it's eight in the morning and I think coffee's much more needed than vodka right now," he's moving his hands rapidly, the way he only does when he's anxious, and Enjolras reaches to catch his wrist in the hopes that it will calm him a little.

"Jehan, I'm fine. I know you're worried, but it's okay. I'll be fine."

"Damn right you will," Bahorel smirks at him. "No way a fucking knife is going to take you down."

"Still hurts like hell, though," Enjolras grimaces and forces himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth because wow, painful, but at least he's sort-of upright and it's easier than looking at everybody lying down. "I'm guessing I can't have coffee?"

"I'm thinking we should make sure you can keep something a little less harsh down first. Like water," Combeferre suggests, pushing the glass toward him again and he sighs and takes another few sips, not feeling like he's going to bring it back up which is…progress, maybe.

He's contemplating having more to drink when there's a rapping at the door again, and Bahorel goes to open it, a grin lighting up as his face as he does so. "See, Jehan,  _some people_ know the benefits of alcohol in the early morning!" he ushers Bossuet and Musichetta in before closing the door, taking the drinks from Bossuet before opening a bottle of beer with his teeth (which has Enjolras cringing, because  _honestly)_ and leaning back on the counter. "There. I'm happy, now."

"Yes, we did that to please you," Bossuet mutters, looking around. "Where's Joly?"

"Asleep. Probably. He was up all night so he's tired, I'm sure," Combeferre replies and Bossuet shrugs and drops into a nearby chair, yawning.

"His damn cat kept  _me_ up all night," he sulks as Musichetta pats him on the head and comes to kneel down beside Jehan.

"I'm sure you're tired of people asking how you are, but…" she reaches forward and brushes some hair off of Enjolras' forehead, and he blinks and shrugs because he kind of is but there's a…larger than expected part of him that's almost thankful for the attention, that's reveling in the fact that he really does have people that care about him as a person.

It's kind of a nice feeling. "I'm okay," he promises, because the painkillers are starting to kick in and he feels a little steadier sitting upright. "He wasn't even aiming for me, he was just kind of…flailing the knife around and I happened to get in the way."

"You shouldn't have been there to get in the way at all," comes a voice from the kitchen doorway and they all turn, Enjolras noticing that even though he's slept through the night Feuilly still looks exhausted. "It's my fault that…"

"Don't," about five of them say at once and the man blinks at the room at large before shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

"It is. I…Combeferre told me I could stay and I insisted on going home, if I wasn't so damn stubborn..."

"Nobody forced me to go with you," Enjolras doesn't really have the energy to take up this fight right now but he's not letting Feuilly blame himself for this one. "And quite honestly if you hadn't been there I might have been hurt a lot worse than this. You probably saved my life."

Feuilly laughs bitterly at that, eyes snapping up before he shrugs and curls in on himself again.

"None of us blame you," Jehan says quietly, getting off of the floor and going to grab one of the coffees from the tray before he crosses to Feuilly and holds it out expectantly.

"There's booze, too!" Bossuet calls and Grantaire predictably wakes up at that, looking around frantically until he spies the bottles and reaches to grab one for himself.

"You  _did_ interrupt my trip to the bar last night," he says to Enjolras, and it's something that would have riled him up only a few days ago but he's not sure if it's the medication that's making him more good-natured and tolerant than normal but he can't really say anything to dispute that and Grantaire looks thankful that he doesn't.

"I…think I'll stick with coffee," Feuilly answers Bossuet's earlier point and takes the cup from Jehan, nodding in thanks before yelping a little and trying to keep it upright as the poet pulls him into a hug.

Enjolras can tell they're having one of their moments again, those times when they seem to communicate without speaking, but when they pull apart Feuilly looks a little more at peace with himself and he sits down in another spare chair, the cup held tightly in his hands.

"Done blaming yourself now?" Bahorel asks.

"Not entirely, but since I can't exactly change the past, I guess it does me no good to dwell on it," he sounds more than a little unconvinced but before he can say anything else there's a knocking at the door for the third time that morning.

"You're ready for this?" Combeferre asks, looking between Feuilly and Enjolras (because really, there's only two people that it could possibly be), and Feuilly bites his lip and nods.

"Yeah. I was going to talk to him today anyway…not like this, of course, but I'm not going to avoid him," he decides, looking to Enjolras, who sighs heavily.

"And I suppose since I'm going to be mothered and fussed over regardless I might as well let him at least confirm for himself that I'm alive and well," he tries to sound unconcerned but a part of him really  _does_ want to see Marius, and he shifts himself into a more comfortable position and waits as Combeferre goes to open the door.


	16. Chapter 16

"You know they wouldn't lie to us and tell us he's fine if he isn't," Courfeyrac looks annoyed and Marius can't blame him, really, because he's been up since Joly called them and Marius had barely waited for the sun to rise before all but dragging Courfeyrac out into the chilly morning air and over to where Enjolras lives.

"I know, but I…I need to see," Marius says, rubbing his hands on his upper arms almost convulsively in an attempt to stop from shaking, and when Combeferre opens the door he barely breathes out a 'hey' to the man before brushing past.

He stops short in the middle of the room because Enjolras looks, well…alive. He's paler than normal and his expression is a little pained, but he's conscious and upright and Marius almost wants to fall over at the relief that floods through him.

"Well, get over here already," Enjolras looks wryly amused now and Marius does, not caring about anybody else in the room as he sinks down beside the other man and then…stops, because he doesn't know what he can do or how much he can touch or…

"C'mere," Enjolras holds out his arm and Marius gratefully curls into his side, figuring that it can't be near his injury since not even Enjolras would be that reckless when he's trying to heal up properly. "Were you worried?"

"I was terrified," Marius admitted with a shaky laugh. "It's not…I can't say I've ever gotten a call to tell me my boyfriend's been  _stabbed_ before, and when I heard you wouldn't go to the hospital…" he trails off as Enjolras holds him a little tighter.

"I couldn't. My parents would find out and they'd get the story, somehow, and if they found out where I was when it happened, and that I regularly associate with somebody that's…well, let's just say they think keeping to one's own social circle is the only way to live. They wouldn't exactly be happy if they knew one of my close friends doesn't have any money  _or_ a good family name," he looks over to Feuilly, who looks like he's heard this before and the frown on his face tells Marius exactly how he feels about that sort of mentality.

"Having money doesn't mean a thing if you're an asshole," Courfeyrac clears his throat and it sounds like the words are being forcibly ripped from his body. Marius knows he's not used to apologizing or admitting when he's majorly screwed up, but in this case it's the only way he'll ever have, well,  _anything_ with Feuilly again and it's nice to see that he's willing to fight for it.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" 'Feuilly asks softly, and Marius notices how wary Jehan is, eyes darting between Courfeyrac and Feuilly like he's ready to intervene if needed.

"I'm not…you know I'm an idiot," Courfeyrac starts and Feuilly holds up his hand and shakes his head.

"Not here. We're not doing this in front of," he gestures vaguely to the room at large and Marius has to admit that, yeah, he wouldn't want to hash something like that out either in front of an audience, but there's silence until Bahorel clears his throat and shrugs.

"Well, what does everybody say to a real breakfast that's not…just coffee or beer?" he doesn't say why but everybody seems to know regardless and Marius is kind of happy he suggested it since he'd kind of like a little bit of time alone with Enjolras as well.

"Go," Enjolras waves at Combeferre, who looks ready to protest. "You can't do anything more for me right now and we can always wake Joly up if something goes wrong," his tone implies that he's not budging on this and the other man eventually sighs and goes to grab his coat as most of them file out, some more slowly than others, and Musichetta pipes up to say she'll stay since she wants to be there when Joly finally gets up and heads toward the bedrooms, leaving the four men alone in the kitchen.

"So, um, living room?" Courfeyrac asks and Feuilly gives a non-committal shrug but heads in that direction, the air so tense that it's almost uncomfortable.

"They'll be fine," Enjolras murmurs, and Marius can tell that he's leaning on him quite heavily and shifts so that he's holding the other man more securely. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about them, I'm worried about  _you,"_ he stresses, because there's part of him that's still panicking a little. He'd thought that seeing for himself that Enjolras was okay would be enough for him to calm down, but it's not really working and somehow seeing the other man so injured and vulnerable and  _human_ is kind of…sobering, in a way, and he's never really cared this deeply for anybody before and…

Oh, fuck.

"Something wrong?" Enjolras looks up and Marius realizes that he's tense, his arm tightening around the other man without him noticing, and he shakes his head and loosens his grip a little as Enjolras shrugs and nuzzles against his neck, some combination of exhaustion and the painkillers obviously making him more affectionate than normal.

But there's really no denying anymore that what Marius feels for the other man is love, and it's scary, because he  _thought_ he'd felt that for Cosette barely knowing her and then she was just… _gone. And,_  while he doesn't think Enjolras is going to up and move to another country with two days' notice, it's not as if the other man is all that, well, receptive when it comes to talking about his feelings.

Which…makes it difficult, because the last thing Marius wants is to say something he means as serious and have it brushed off or have Enjolras imply that he doesn't feel the same way.

"You're doing it again," Enjolras pulls away enough to look at him, blinking slowly and stroking his fingers through Marius' dark hair before he leans in for a kiss and Marius lets himself relax into it, grateful that Enjolras is comfortable doing at least this much without much thought. "Look, I'm…" he cuts off with a yawn and winces when he turns a little. "I'm sure you didn't sleep much last night, and these pills knock me out, so…I know it's not much of a bed, but if you wanted to…" he stops and shrugs the shoulder on his uninjured side as Marius finds himself nodding enthusiastically.

"Is it okay? I'm not going to hurt you?"

"Marius, I'm not made of porcelain," he replies with a smile before lying down, frowning as he thinks for a moment. "On second thought, here, lie on your back, that way I can be on top and there's less chance of you accidentally hurting me somehow," he shoves weakly at Marius who chuckles and complies, reaching to pull a blanket over them once Enjolras has settled himself half on Marius' chest, head pillowed on the other man's shoulder and his breath warm against Marius' neck. "I told Combeferre I didn't want to be babied but maybe I won't mind so much if it's you. Just don't overdo it," he warns and Marius hums and pulls him closer, because that's not really a promise he can make.

000

Musichetta settles herself on the sofa and waits for the boys from the kitchen to come in, because she knows they will, and they both stop short at the sight of her although she merely sighs and tosses her long hair over one shoulder, motioning them into the room.

"Now, you both know I live with two incredibly stubborn men who get into tiffs once a week or more, so I'm used to moderating these kinds of things. And I know both of you well enough to know that you'll never talk it through honestly on your own," she adds.

"I really don't see how Joly and Bossuet deserve somebody as beautiful and intelligent and…"

"Stop," she cuts Courfeyrac off, because of course she's heard it before from him, but Feuilly closes himself off almost instinctively at the words and she has a feeling they might have found the source of the problem. "Sit. Both of you tell me what you need from the other to make this work," she keeps her tone clipped as Courfeyrac settles himself beside her, crossing his legs and smiling coyly at her and yes, he's very handsome, but she's perfectly happy with what she has, thank you very much.

"That.  _That_ is my problem," Feuilly folds himself into an armchair, body pulled in as close as he can, arms wrapped around his knees. "My problem is that I can't trust him not to flirt with every single attractive person he interacts with, and it…I know I'm insecure, I have good reason to be, but you…" he looks directly at Courfeyrac then. "You use your fear of commitment as an excuse so that you never  _have_ to commit, and you mock people that look for something deeper than sexual attraction and I can't…I can't deal with that anymore," he's being honest and Musichetta can tell by the guilty look on Courfeyrac's face that he already knew all of this.

"And?" he says finally, defensively, "What am I supposed to do? You don't let yourself get close to anybody, and it's…even if I wanted something more, you've never really made me feel like I could have that with you because you close yourself off," he's fighting to keep his voice low and even and it's actually an admirable show of restraint from him. "I get it, I do, you've lost a lot of people in your life, but I…it's hard to think of you as something more than a fuck-buddy if that's how you seem to treat the whole thing. I mean, God, look at Enjolras! He's the most emotionally closed-off guy I know and he's still not afraid to show  _some_ affection to Marius even in front of us. Half the time I think you're ashamed of me because of how you act," he stops then, looking to the side and angrily shaking his head, and she pats his knee and gives him a reassuring smile.

"So," she clears her throat. "I think it's safe to say that what both of you are saying is true, and it should be pretty easy to fix if you're both willing to make compromises," she trails off because really, this is something they _should_ be able to figure out on their own, and Feuilly uncurls a little bit, tilting his head to the side and looking thoughtful.

They're interrupted as a door opens behind them and Joly pokes his head out, staring around the room before stepping into it properly. "Where's everybody else?"

"Out for breakfast. Where we can go, or we can raid the cupboards here and see what we can find," Musichetta replies, standing up and going to hug her boyfriend, who sighs into her hair and pulls her close. "I hear you were amazing last night."

"That's pushing it. We did what we needed to, and Enjolras will be fine, so…"

"So you were amazing. Stop arguing," she kisses him softly and tugs on his hand. "Come on. Kitchen. Let's leave these two be."

He nods in apparent understanding and lets her lead him through to the kitchen, both of them stopping at the sight of Enjolras and Marius curled up under the blankets.

"We should enjoy the peace while we can," Joly says in a hushed voice. "Because as soon as the others get back…"

"Yes, it's not like they're quiet," she laughs in agreement. "But come on. Cupboards. Raiding."

"Right," he nods and starts to help her search for a suitable breakfast.

000

"So I'm too emotionally closed and you're too afraid of long-term commitment," Feuilly says it more to break the silence than anything, and Courfeyrac looks up to meet his…God, he doesn't even know what Feuilly  _is_ to him, that's how fucked up this whole mess is.

"Yeah. Pretty much. We're a real pair, huh?"

"I think it mostly works because I'm not afraid to call you out on your bullshit and you're not afraid to speak your mind when I'm drawing too far inside myself, but I guess we got a little…lost lately," he settles on, fingers tapping a rhythm on the arm of the chair. "So where does that leave us?"

"I don't think it has to leave us anywhere. I mean, unless you want it to," he adds quickly when Feuilly gives him an almost hurt look. "Just that…I think we both want more, only I'm too set in my ways to admit it and you're too afraid that I'm going to hurt you somehow to say anything about it."

"Hmm," Feuilly doesn't sound angry or defensive, just kind of resigned and accepting, and Courfeyrac doesn't want to push too far although, well, he does  _kind of_ need an answer to all of this.

"So…"

"So we both promise to try and change at least a little and see how it goes?" he suggests, Courfeyrac nodding in agreement because he can't see any other solution right now. "Okay. I can…I can do that."

"So can I," he assures the other man, but he can tell that just because they're okay again doesn't mean Feuilly's going to want to jump right back into bed with him, and he thinks that maybe leaving him be right now is the best thing to do.

It takes a lot of self-discipline to walk into the kitchen and  _not_ make a loud comment about Marius and Enjolras that will likely wake them up, but he's got far too much compassion for that and honestly, they're adorable (and  _that's_ a word he never thought he'd associate with Enjolras) and instead he walks over to Joly and Musichetta and grabs one of the granola bars they've managed to scrounge up.

"All sorted?" Musichetta asks. Courfeyrac shrugs and peels open the wrapper, leaning his elbows on the countertop.

"Enough. For now. We'll figure it out," he promises her, because he's pretty sure they will.

In fact, he thinks as he looks at his two friends still fast asleep and curled around each other on the floor, he's sure  _all_ of them will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note that I have a tumblr which is [here](http://apolloenjolras.tumblr.com) and if you want to chat or ask questions about the fic or anything you can always hit me up there :)


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm getting really sick of this."

Enjolras guesses he should be happy that they thought he was healed at least enough that he could move to his bed, and it's a lot more comfortable than the kitchen floor, but there's only so much he can do between watching TV and going on his laptop and staring at the same walls 24 hours a day.

"I'd trade places with you if I could, you know that," Feuilly's seated on the edge of the bed, body slumped with exhaustion because he seems to have made it some sort of personal punishment to not go home until Enjolras is more fully recovered, which means he's been sleeping on their couch and, Enjolras knows, their couch is not really made for sleeping on.

But, since it's the middle of the day and everybody else is in class, there's nobody else that can really monitor him (and yes, Combeferre  _insisted_ that he still be monitored, even though he feels  _fine)_

"I do, but you don't have to, and I…" he grits his teeth and sits upright, leaning back against the headboard and breathing heavily because even that much movement is exhausting right now. "I'm going to be fine, so stop beating yourself up over it."

"I don't like seeing other people get hurt because of me…"

"Feuilly. Stop," Enjolras says as sternly as he can and the other man looks at him. "You saved my life."

"You're not usually one to be overdramatic," Feuilly sighs and looks away again and Enjolras growls in frustration.

"I'm not. But who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there, so just…focus on that instead of wishing you'd taken my place. Because I wouldn't wish this on anybody," he adds, pressing his hand against the bandages covering his side and taking a quick glance at the clock while he does so. "But enough about me, I thought you and Courfeyrac had patched things up."

"We have," Feuilly's almost immediately defensive and Enjolras takes that as his real answer.

"If you had, you wouldn't flinch at the sound of his name. I'm not an expert on relationship advice, but I know we trust each other, so talk," he tries to not make it sound like a command but he knows he's probably failed at that.

"Honestly, it's nothing. I'm not bullshitting," Feuilly promises with a tiny laugh because Enjolras is sure he still looks skeptical. "We just…haven't had much of a chance to talk in the last couple of days, that's all. I'm not…" he pauses when they hear the door open and Enjolras has to smile even as Feuilly's eyes widen. "This is far too conniving for you."

"It's not conniving, I asked Courfeyrac to pick up any homework or notes I might need since, you know, we're both law students," he shrugs and smooths his hands over the blanket covering him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"I don't need people trying to…" Feuilly trails off as the door to the bedroom opens and Courfeyrac peers around the door, his arms full of textbooks, before entering.

"Hey, homework delivery," he skips over to the bed and places them down. "Should be everything you need there, and I just had to throw around your dad's name a little and nobody asked any questions," he winks and Enjolras reaches over to grab the pile, flipping through it and trying to distract himself because no, he's never going to be  _proud_ that his family name holds so much clout that people are  _afraid_ of it.

He realizes a few seconds later that the  _only_ sound in the room is the rustling of papers that he himself is doing. "The two of you don't have to be awkward for my sake," he says without looking up, although he's watching out of the corner of his eye. He knows they've got issues, obviously, but not  _this_ badly. And Courfeyrac, for all his promiscuity and apparent inability to take any relationship seriously, is very clearly so worried about screwing up even  _more_ that he's just not going to do  _anything._

Which is a problem because Feuilly's likely waiting on him to make the first move, and Enjolras can't blame him for that.

"When's Marius getting here?" he finally asks, just to break the silence, and the tension seeping from the air is nearly palpable as Courfeyrac looks at him and perches himself on the edge of the bed.

"I dunno, fifteen minutes or so? I think he still had class but he'll be here as soon as it's done. Any word from your esteemed doctors on whether recovery sex is going to help you heal faster?"

And there it is, Enjolras thinks, covering up his feelings with innuendo, but he can't say he wasn't expecting the question.

"You know we haven't done anything….of that nature. And with the way I'm feeling right now we probably won't be for a while," he admits, touching his side instinctively and wincing when even lightly pressing against the bandages sends a flash of pain through his abdomen.

"Don't do anything to make it worse," Feuilly says quietly, and he does look concerned and a little anxious, but Courfeyrac reaches out seemingly without even thinking about it and settles a hand on his knee.

Enjolras doesn't say anything in return because he has a feeling they're pretty close to some sort of breakthrough and the last thing he wants to do now is wreck the mood somehow. Feuilly puts his hand on top of Courfeyrac's and gives him a tiny smile and Courfeyrac lets out a breathy laugh, obviously getting some sense that they're okay again.

"You know, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself for the next ten minutes…' Enjolras finally says and they both look at him as if they've forgotten he's even there.

"Yes. I mean, of course you are, and Marius will be here really soon. Probably. So. My place?" Courfeyrac still looks slightly hesitant but Feuilly rolls his eyes and nods and then the other man's all confidence again as he stands up and pulls Feuilly up by his hand, grinning. "Awesome."

"You know I'm not letting you off the hook that easy," Feuilly mutters and Courfeyrac shrugs, leaning in to whisper although it's still loud enough that Enjolras can hear it and he  _should_ be scandalized, really, but he knows that 'I bet I know a few ways to change your mind' is hardly the most salacious thing Courfeyrac's ever said.

"I'm serious, I'm fine," Enjolras waves them on as Feuilly looks back at him, and that seems to be all they need as they head out the door. Enjolras pulls the pile of homework toward him again, paging through it and deciding that his side didn't hurt too much that he couldn't do some reading, at least, while he waits for Marius to show up.

000

"Do you love him?"

The question is kind of blunt but not really that unexpected although Marius still blinks up at Combeferre as he processes it. There's really no confusion as to whom he's referring to either, of course, but even though Marius has kind of accepted the fact in his own mind that yes, he does, he's not sure whether revealing that to anybody else is the best idea yet.

"Of course he does," Jehan sits down beside Marius, crossing his long legs and leaning over onto the younger man's shoulder. "It's obvious. And it's not a crime to admit that you do."

"Some might say he's a hard man to love, though," Combeferre points out.

"I think he's a very easy man to love, especially at first sight," Jehan counters, and Marius has to admit that Enjolras probably breaks hearts all the time without realizing it because yes, he really is  _that_ stunning. "But he's probably much more difficult to be  _in_ love with."

"He has a lot of walls. And rightly so, he's had to put them up in order to keep up the image that he needs in order for people to respect him, but it makes getting close to him hard," Combeferre's staring intently at Marius and Marius wonders why, because he  _knows_ this. Mostly. "He doesn't believe you love him."

"You've…talked about that?" Marius laughs awkwardly because that's not really a conversation he would have imagined Combeferre and Enjolras having.

"I may have mentioned it off-hand to see his reaction, but it's really no surprise he brushed it off," he sighs and taps his fingers on the table. "But you know he feels strongly about you."

"I'd like to think so," Marius replies with a quick nod. "I guess I'm afraid to tell him because I don't know what sort of reaction I'm going to get. It's hard to say 'I love you' to somebody when you know they won't say it back," he doesn't mean to sound petulant but it almost comes off that way, and Jehan wraps an arm around him in response.

"Maybe hearing you say it might prompt him into admitting how he feels," the poet suggests and Marius isn't sure if  _anything_ is going to prompt Enjolras into revealing something he truly doesn't want to, but at this point it can't hurt to try. "I know I'm too much of a dreamer when it comes to love, but I still believe it exists and that what you and him have is something real, Marius. He doesn't look at anybody the way he looks at you," he says earnestly and Marius can tell that this isn't his normal romantic exaggeration. It's humbling, in a way, because Marius doesn't see himself as anything  _that_ special and, well, he's still not entirely convinced that Enjolras is a mere human so to be held in such high regard by him is immensely flattering.

He doesn't reply, though, because there's not much to say, but he realizes a second later that he's actually supposed to be  _seeing_ Enjolras right now as opposed to just talking about him and he excuses himself, getting a knowing smile from Combeferre and a friendly half-hug from Jehan (who he's learned is really affectionate with people he trusts, and Marius feels a little bit of a thrill every time he realizes that these people truly  _do_ think of him as one of their own now) before he rushes out of the University.

000

Enjolras is half-asleep by the time he hears the door open and he knows that the pills he's still taking and the exhaustion he's always subject to these days makes him, well, more needy for human contact than he would be otherwise, but since it's Marius he's not going to let himself feel too self-conscious over it.

"Hey!" Marius slips in, breathless and flushed like he's run the whole way, and Enjolras twitches the blankets back in an obvious invitation that Marius takes after only the smallest hesitation. "Hey," he says again, lower, once he's settled under the covers, his fingers stroking through Enjolras' hair as he leans in for a kiss. "So. I don't know how long I need to stay, but…"

"For a while," Enjolras cuts him off and Marius looks at him curiously. "Courfeyrac went back to yours with Feuilly. So I'd give them a few hours," he says bluntly and sees the realization set in on Marius' face, the other man wrinkling his nose at the information.

"They've made up, have they?"

"Seemingly. But, well, it's probably better if you don't walk in on them fooling around," Enjolras laughs softly, careful not to strain his side.

"Yeah. Definitely better," Marius agrees. "Not that…I mean, the idea itself isn't…" he's stumbling over his words and it's incredibly endearing, but Enjolras shakes his head and shushes him quietly.

"I know. I want that, too, but…I won't be doing anything too strenuous for a while," he grimaces because even the  _thought_ of moving that much is painful and Marius winces in sympathy and curls more into his body, careful not to touch anywhere near his injury.

"You're, um, a lot more affectionate when you're…" Marius pauses, looking a little sheepish, and Enjolras has to smile at that because he's noticed it as well.

"Hopped up on painkillers? Yeah. I' mean, I'm trying to be more like that with you even without the drugs, but it's just…not who I am," he says honestly and Marius shrugs, sighing deeply and pulling the blankets around them more tightly.

"You're trying. That's all I can ask for," he promises, and there's something in his eyes then, something that Enjolras  _knows_ is love because even if Combeferre hadn't said it so bluntly he'd already come to the conclusion that Marius had incredibly strong feelings for him.

He just can't say that he feels the same, although he does care deeply for the boy and the thought of being with him long-term is actually kind of comforting. It's just not  _love,_ and he doesn't want to say that and hurt Marius.

"Okay," he breathes out slowly and tries to steel himself because no matter how careful he is this is going to hurt, and he very carefully rolls them over so that he's above Marius, the younger man looking up at him curiously.

"Are you…does it hurt? That's…"

"Marius, I'm not too injured to make out with you," he says sternly and Marius laughs breathlessly and nods, arching up to meet him and it's kind of oddly comforting how familiar and  _normal_ this feels now, especially when he knows they've got all the time in the world.

Well, at least all the time in the world until Combeferre comes home, but close enough.


	18. Chapter 18

"Well, I can officially say now that what you always hear about make-up sex is true," Courfeyrac flops back on the pillow, grinning over at Feuilly before he wrinkles his nose. "Are you smoking in my bed?"

"I'm careful," Feuilly replies, although he's using a cup as an ashtray and Courfeyrac knows this is probably some form of payback but he's too sated to care.

"Bahorel's a bad influence on you. I know this is his fault."

Feuilly laughs and drops the cigarette into the cup, setting it aside. "It's not like it's a problem. After all, it's hard to get addicted to something you can't even afford," he's always so completely candid and dismissive of his situation and it bothers Courfeyrac somewhat because he doesn't deserve  _any_ of what life's done to him. Although he's learned by now that Feuilly's so damn stubborn that he won't accept charity so it's just something he needs to brush aside before he can fixate too much on it.

"I'm sorry," he says again instead, because he can't say it enough, and Feuilly purses his lips and nods, fingers curling in the edge of the blanket.

"I know. I really do know. And I feel like I'm not exactly innocent here either so maybe we can both admit to screwing up and just…move forward?" he suggests, and Courfeyrac's been kind of waiting to hear that because honestly, the faster they can put all of this drama behind them, the better.

He knows he doesn't have to say anything, but when he looks over again Feuilly's frowning and yeah, he's kind of confused now because they should be okay, but…

"What's up?" he asks hesitantly. "If you don't want this…"

"Of course I do," Feuilly waves a hand vaguely as if he's waving that particular concern away entirely. "You know me, I always think too much."

"Yes, and you should stop, because when you're in bed with me the last thing you should be doing is worrying," Courfeyrac pulls the other man closer, both of them wrapping around each other in a way that's almost second-nature by now.

"You really think highly of yourself, don't you?" Feuilly's grinning now, at least, and Courfeyrac knows that he's joking.

"I'm vain and I'm shallow, I've never denied that," he admits with a smirk of his own.

"You certainly haven't," Feuilly mutters, but there's something more relaxed about him now than Courfeyrac's seen in a long time and while he's not exactly sure  _what_ has shifted, obviously he's doing something right to put the other man at ease.

"Hey, choosing to only sleep with hot people isn't a crime," he trails his hand down Feuilly's side to rest on his hip.

"I'm glad I make the cut, then," Feuilly lowers his voice, fingers carding through Courfeyrac's dark hair before he pulls him in for a kiss.

"You think Enjolras will have told Marius to stay away for a while?" he asks between kisses, because there's probably no way they're going to stop now and Marius will just have to deal with that if he comes home.

"I'm almost certain of it," Feuilly says, meeting his eyes, and there's something so charged between them in that moment that Courfeyrac isn't worried about Marius at all because, quite frankly, he's got more important things to attend to.

000

Marius is a little afraid when he pushes open the door but the place is dark and silent, a fact that he's grateful for. Combeferre, who had arrived home long before Marius left, had brushed off his concerns with a simple, 'they're human, not superhuman, you can't just go at it for hours without taking a break' and Marius knows he's right but, well, better safe than sorry.

Mostly he still feels like a coward because even though he had the feeling that Enjolras wouldn't shy away from him if he actually admitted to being in love with him, he still couldn't bring himself to say the words and he's not sure why that is.

But it's late, and he's tired, and while Enjolras had told him to stay the night he doesn't want to risk accidentally hurting the other man in his sleep so he'd decided not to chance it.

He's just rooting around in the freezer for a quick late-night meal when he hears a shuffling behind him and turns abruptly, the frozen food package clasped in his hands.

"I was wondering when you'd get home," Courfeyrac looks freshly-showered, hair still damp and dressed in just a pair of low-slung sweatpants, and Marius shrugs and pops the frozen pasta in the microwave before starting it up. "Did Enjolras try to scare you away?"

"Kind of. I mean, I didn't want to interrupt…" Marius watches the timer on the microwave count down, tensing a little when Courfeyrac hugs him from behind and hooks his chin over his shoulder but relaxing into the embrace soon enough.

"You wouldn't have. I mean, I wouldn't mind…"

"Don't," Marius says, but it comes out as almost a laugh because it's not unexpected anymore. "But I'm glad you and Feuilly are good."

"We really are," Courfeyrac promises, letting Marius go as the microwave beeps. "He's probably going to sleep straight until morning because he's been sleeping on a couch for the past week, but he needs it."

"He's not still blaming himself for what happened, is he?" Marius heads over to the bar and hops up on a stool before starting to eat.

"Of course he is, even if he'll deny it when you ask him," Courfeyrac slumps onto the stool next to him, staring at Marius' food until the younger man sighs and holds the fork out so he can take some for himself. "Talk to me."

"About what?" Marius asks, because he's sure he's still giving off some sort of negative energy or  _something_ since his mind won't stop swirling.

"Don't play with me. I'm not…look, I'm pretty perceptive, even if sometimes it might seem like I'm always thinking with my dick. But you're stressed about something and I had to deal with Feuilly earlier and I don't really think the things I did to calm  _him_ down are going to work with you. At least, not with you wearing pants. So talk," he urges and Marius starts laughing despite himself.

"I think you're still thinking with your dick," he mutters and Courfeyrac shrugs, not looking guilty about that in the least. "No, it's just…I'm in love with him."

"Yeah, so?" Courfeyrac replies without any hesitation and Marius snaps his head up because he'd expected a  _little_ more of a reaction. "Look, I know you think I don't believe in love, but that's not…exactly true, and if you love him, that's not a bad thing. I take it you haven't told him?"

"I'm not afraid, exactly, I just…don't know how he's going to react and I don't think it'll be bad, whatever it is, but at the same time…I know he's not going to say it back. And it's like, do I risk saying it and having it be awkward, or do I say nothing and just never let him know how I'm feeling even if I'm not going to get the response that I want," he explains, picking at his food until Courfeyrac steals the fork from him and eats some more of it. "There's more in the freezer, you know."

"Yours is already made," the other man replies, and he looks thoughtful and concerned and not like he's about to make fun of Marius which is a nice change. "I mean, you're right. Enjolras isn't the type of guy to say he loves anybody, really, but if you don't expect him to say it back I guess I don't see the harm in you telling him. I mean, better to be honest, right?"

"Have you ever told anybody you loved them?" Marius asks curiously.

"Nah, not really. I mean, maybe during sex? But that doesn't count," he says quickly, like he's afraid Marius is going to contradict him (but hello, virgin, so it's not like he can agree or dispute it one way or the other).

"Not even…" Marius inclines his head toward the bedroom and Courfeyrac looks decidedly uncomfortable now.

"We're friends. We fool around. Maybe we're exclusive now or…something, but it's not anything more than that. You and Enjolras I think is," he pauses before scooping up some more of the pasta and nudging Marius with his elbow. "You're not eating your food, so open up."

"You're not feeding me; I'm a grown man!" Marius laughs and tries to swat the other man's hand away before relenting when it's obvious that Courfeyrac's not giving in on this, and he lets the other man do what he wants, chewing and swallowing before slumping over onto the bar. "So I should tell him."

"Yeah, you should tell him. Take a chance. Be brave. Fight for what you love and all that," Courfeyrac pats him on the back. "But I'm serious, don't lie to him about how you feel. If there's one thing I've learned about being in a relationship that works, it's that you have to be honest, even when it's hard."

"I know," Marius picks his head up enough to smile at his friend. "Thanks. For this."

"Mm-hmm, now finish your pasta and go to bed. It's late," he ducks into kiss Marius on the cheek before strolling back into his room and Marius would protest but, well, it  _is_ late and he's tired and bed sounds like a wonderful thing right now.

He'll figure out what to do about Enjolras in the morning.

000

"Don't lie to him."

"I wasn't aware you had psychic powers," Enjolras is actually attempting to do his homework but it's hard when Combeferre just barges in and starts with that sentence. "Don't lie to who about what?"

"Marius. I talked to him today and Jehan and I are both fairly sure he's in love with you, but you…"

"I'm not in love with him, no," Enjolras sighs and closes his books, setting them aside and patting the blanket in invitation. "I wish that I was, because that would make all of this easier, but I can't call what I feel for him love," he says truthfully and Combeferre nods.

"I think he knows that, somewhere inside of him, but you shouldn't tell him you feel the same out of some…false sense of obligation when it's a lie," he looks honestly concerned and Enjolras can only nod, because Combeferre's right.

"I know. I wouldn't, you know that, I just…I'm not quite sure how to react without offending him if he does ever tell me he loves me," Enjolras isn't really ashamed to admit that, not in front of Combeferre at least, but it's still something that he knows is going to be awkward.

"Well, I don't think you can stress out about that at this point. Just…take it as it comes, and if it happens, you can decide what the best way to reply is," he looks mostly unconcerned and Enjolras has to sigh.

"You know I don't always react the best when put on the spot. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I also don't want to lose him. Even if it's not love, I still care very deeply for him and that's…not something I can say about a lot of people," he chuckles and leans back against the headboard.

"That's an understatement," Combeferre notes, rather accurately, but he's known Enjolras long enough that he can get away with comments like that and Enjolras won't take any offense because really, it's true. He doesn't let people in very easily, and it's even more rare that he'll come to respect and value them as true friends, and sometimes it scares him just how quickly Marius has reached that point with him. "But you'll figure it out. I'm sure of it," Combeferre pats his knee. "Now, let me see your side. So far everything's healing up the way it should but we still need to be careful about infection…"

And just like that he's in his professional medical mode and Enjolras knows their previous conversation is over, and also that Combeferre won't leave him alone unless he does what he asks so he pushes the blankets down and pulls up his shirt, not sure he's really any farther ahead than he was fifteen minutes ago.

All he knows is that, right now, he doesn't want to screw this up. So he just has to make sure that he doesn't.


	19. Chapter 19

"We're having a conversation about love?"

"I mean…yes?" Marius knows it's hardly an answer but it's still not a topic he's that comfortable bringing up and in the end he's, well, decided to go to people that actually know a thing or two about real love. Or something close to it.

"What about it?" Bossuet leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. "You really love Enjolras?"

"I…people keep asking me that like it's so impossible, but…"

"It's not," Grantaire clears his throat and Marius looks over at him and the way he's hovering over his own cup of coffee that has the younger man pretty sure there's more than  _just_ coffee in there. "Loving Enjolras. It's not impossible. I would know."

"Poor bastard," Bossuet clicks his tongue sympathetically. "But okay, fine. I mean, it's not like I'm exactly in the most…normal situation, but I guess if I've learned anything from this it's that love isn't something you can predict or try to reason with. If it happens, it happens, and as long as it's real and true and you're content with it, that's all you need to look for," he looks like he's never really thought too deeply about this before and Marius can't blame him, because most people probably don't fixate on it the way he's done lately.

"When you, I mean…who said it first?" he asks curiously and Bossuet shrugs.

"Honestly, I can't remember. But of course it's scary and it kind of feels like you're walking off a cliff and you've got no idea if there's a soft landing at the bottom but it's…if you love him, and I think you do, you need to take that chance. You'll regret it forever if you don't," he's being serious and it's not that common from him so Marius is inclined to believe he feels strongly about this. "Love doesn't have to be conventional."

"Or requited," Grantaire pipes up again, still staring at his coffee, and Marius is never quite sure how to respond when he gets like this because he always feels like he's rubbing it in his face somehow that he's with Enjolras. Even though, at the same time, he's almost certain that Grantaire holds no resentment toward him. "But if he's willing to give you  _anything_ I think that's enough. You know how he is."

"I do," Marius nods. "And it is. I don't expect him to say it back, in fact I'd be kind of floored if he does, but if he doesn't feel the same way…"

"You have to ask yourself if you're really going to be happy with that, and if his feelings never change, if you're going to resent him eventually," Bossuet replies. "I mean, not that it's exactly the same, but I'm technically the third wheel in my relationship, and it's hard knowing that, you know, they're going to get married and be  _the couple_ and at any point they could just tell me 'oh hey it was fun but we don't want you around anymore' but I just…I have to believe that they're not going to. And I  _do_ believe that, and for me it's worth it even if people are always going to wonder why I've seemingly never been in a relationship," he explains and Marius can see how their situations are the same. Kind of.

"So I need to figure out if it's still worth it to be with him even knowing that he might never feel the same about me as I do for him?" he questions and Bossuet nods abruptly.

"Yeah. Pretty much. And that's something only you can figure out. I mean, we can advise you for as long as you want, but you're the one that has to make the final call," he points out and Marius knows that he's right, and he also knows that he's been putting this off long enough by now and talking to everybody about it isn't going to help in the long run since, of course, it's something he and Enjolras need to work out for themselves.

"Okay. Thanks," he says, giving them both a smile, and Grantaire gives him a nod while Bossuet digs out his phone and swears quietly, rolling his eyes upward and mumbling something about 'that damn cat' and 'Joly can go buy it food, why is it my problem' and Marius thinks it might just be best not to ask.

000

"How's it going?" he asks later, slipping into Enjolras' bedroom and feeling his mouth go dry because, yes, he knows there's nothing sexual about Enjolras not wearing a shirt so he can check his bandages, but he's never seen the other man shirtless before and it's…well. Something he'd like to see a lot more of, quite frankly.

"Hey," Enjolras looks up, seemingly unaware of his state of undress, and falls back against the pillows with a heavy sigh. "It's going. I can kind of walk around now, but it's slow. I'm just…frustrated, because I hate feeling useless," he pats the bed and Marius slowly crosses the room, curling up beside him and resting a hand on his bare chest and yes, okay, this is new.

"I mean, as long as you're healing and getting better, that's all you can ask for. I know it's probably not easy, but I don't want you doing anything to re-injure yourself," he lets his cheek lay against the blond's shoulder and closes his eyes. God, he's really in love, and he just feels…safe, somehow, around Enjolras, and that has to count for something.

"I'm taking it easy. It's hard, but I am," Enjolras sounds resigned and Marius smiles to himself, opening his eyes a second later as his phone goes off and he shifts to dig it out.

"You know, despite the fact that I live with him and it would be really easy for him to tell me things at home, he seems to give me most messages by text," he mumbles as he reads the text from Courfeyrac and Enjolras laughs softly. "Honestly."

"What's he bothering you about?"

"I dunno, something about some Halloween party at the  _Musain_ this weekend," Marius slides the phone back into his pocket without replying, getting himself comfortable again and humming quietly when Enjolras starts running his fingers through the younger man's dark hair.

"You should go. They have it every year, they've got prizes for costumes and everything," Enjolras sounds completely uninterested but that's not surprising.

"But you can't…"

"I'll be fine. Just because I'm injured doesn't mean you can't go out and have fun," he says and Marius looks up at him, knowing that it's true but still feeling guilty that he can go out and the other man will be stuck in bed. "Combeferre will stay with me, I'm sure, if you're that worried."

"I'm not. I know you can take care of yourself," Marius promises, breathing out slowly through his nose. "Courfeyrac won't stop bothering me until I agree, will he?"

"You know him well enough by now to know that he won't," Enjolras lets his hand drop to Marius' shoulder, just resting there. It's quiet and intimate and honestly there's never been a more perfect moment for Marius to say the words, but he…can't, for some reason.

Maybe it's just fear of breaking that moment, or just fear in general, but he can't say it right now and he feels like a coward as he shifts closer, throwing his arm over Enjolras' chest. He's careful, of course, but he wants to feel more bare skin against his own and he's not sure when he'll get the chance to see Enjolras this relaxed again. It's not a common occurrence, he's sure of that.

"So I should go?" he says instead, because it's a safe topic, and Enjolras nods.

"You should. It'll be fun," he adds and Marius isn't so sure about that because, well, parties aren't really his thing, but at least most of the others will be there when Courfeyrac decides to abandon him for more interesting things. Which he will. Because that's what he does.

He's still pondering when Enjolras yawns and shifts a little and he sits up hurriedly. "Sorry! I can leave if you want to sleep…"

"No, stay, you ran out on me before and I'm healed up enough now that you won't be able to hurt me even if you move around a little. C'mere," he slides down under the covers and sighs. Marius looks toward the door, quickly deciding that he really  _does_ want to stay, and slips under as well, curling up close.

The moment might still be right, his mind is anxiously telling him, but he waves the thoughts away because it's  _not,_ and at this point it's impossible to feel like anything but a failure. But he'll tell him. One day.

…Probably.

000

"You're not regretting not going?" Combeferre looks like he already knows the answer but somehow feels obligated to ask, and Enjolras shrugs and walks slowly over to the couch, sinking down and letting out a pained breath before he shakes his head.

"Trust me, not going to a party is not going to depress me," he says with a tiny smile and Combeferre snorts.

"Says the man who met his boyfriend at a party…"

"That isn't something that's going to happen very often," Enjolras waves the words off even though they're true. But it's not as if he needs to go through that again since, well, he's got a boyfriend now.

Sometimes he's still amazed when he thinks those words and realizes they're completely true.

"I know. I'm not too broken up about not going either, you realize. The  _Musain_ is always ten times as crazy for their Halloween parties and the prizes really aren't that great," he laughs and tucks his feet under him on the couch, reaching to lift Enjolras' shirt (and Enjolras is used to this by now although it's still a bit strange to just have Combeferre do it in the middle of a conversation).

"How is it?"

"Healing well. I don't think you're in any danger of infection anymore. It's probably going to scar, but…"

"I'm not that vain, believe me," Enjolras adjusts his shirt and leans back against the couch. "Want to look if there's any Halloween movies on? Or one of those scary cake-baking contests?" he adds, leaning to grab the remote. His roommate nods and he's just in the process of finding something when Combeferre's phone buzzes and he frowns and digs it out of his pocket, his eyes widening a little as he stares at the screen.

"Shit. Shit, shit,  _shit,"_ he murmurs under his breath and Enjolras immediately knows something's really,  _really_ wrong because Combeferre  _never_ curses unless he's emotionally overwhelmed.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks and the other man gets up.

"I need to go. I have to…I'll be back soon, I hope, I just need to go," he's purposefully avoiding telling Enjolras what the matter is and it's really annoying.

" _Tell me,"_ he pushes himself to his feet, swaying a little but staying steady, and Combeferre grabs his coat and closes his eyes, tipping his head back toward the ceiling before replying in a voice so calm and emotionless that it's scary.

"That was Joly. There was an…explosion at the  _Musain,_ some sort of fire in the kitchen, they're…they're going to need help. So I'm going," he replies and Enjolras almost falls over because he never would have expected  _that._

"You do know you're not a real doctor…"

"I did well enough with you, didn't I?" he counters, grabbing his keys. "I'll keep you updated."

"I'm going, too," Enjolras takes a step forward, gritting his teeth because he hasn't moved that much in over a week, but he's not being left behind.

"Don't be stupid, you can hardly move."

"My  _boyfriend_ is in there and if you think for a second I'm going to sit here while he might be hurt or…or  _worse_ I'm wondering whether you even know me at all," Enjolras replies, his tone as icy as he can make it. "Tell me honestly, will I injure myself further if I go with you, or are you mothering me again?"

"As long as you don't exert yourself too much you'll be fine," he says, shoulders slumping in obvious defeat and Enjolras knows he's telling the truth, even though it's exactly what he'd needed to hear.

"Okay. Let's go," he staggers to the door and Combeferre puts his arm around him, helping him out of the house and down to his car. "Did…Joly didn't say anything about…"

"He didn't say much, I'm sure he's panicking himself. You know how he is," Combeferre laughs weakly but the joke falls flat because Enjolras is trying not to freak out and that's…that's a weird feeling, to be  _that_ worried for somebody else.

And it's not just Marius, although he's obviously at the forefront of his mind. It's  _all_ of them, because he's not sure what he'll do if any of them gets hurt even though he wasn't really in any position to prevent it.

"It'll be okay," Combeferre reaches to pat his hand and this is the reason why he's going to be excellent in emergency situations, because he's utterly collected outwardly and it's doing its part to calm Enjolras a little as well.

If he pulls away from the curb and drives a little too fast, well, Enjolras doesn't think anybody can blame him. He sends Marius a text, not really expecting a response in the chaos that's probably happening at the club, and tells himself not to worry when he in fact doesn't get one.

It'll be okay. Everything will be okay.


	20. Chapter 20

It's probably a good thing that he's used to reacting fast and being on constant alert, because even over the din in the club he can hear the explosion and he turns to see flames shooting out of the kitchen doors.

"Oh, my God," Jehan whispers in his ear, fingers clenched around his shoulders, and Feuilly feels how rigid the other man is and knows he needs to get him out of there. There are so many bodies packed in the room that getting out at  _all_ is going to be a struggle but his mind is just set on finding all of their group and getting them out, and then doing whatever else he can to help.

"Go.  _Go,_ Jehan," he urges, pushing him toward the exit, and Jehan looks scared for a moment before hugging him close.

"Don't do anything stupid," he whispers and Feuilly shakes his head, patting the other man on the back. "I won't. Just get out safe and take anybody you can find with you. I'll be fine," he promises, ducking away from the poet and keeping low as he makes his way toward the kitchens. Luckily everybody seems to be heading for the exit and he yelps a little when somebody catches him about the waist.

"We can't get back there," Bahorel yells over the din and shrieking in the Club. "I tried, the fire's too big in the kitchen. We'll just have to hope everybody got out the back way and get out the front ourselves."

Feuilly nods because he can see now that there's no making it through the kitchen doors, and he straightens up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Did anybody call 911 yet?"

"I'm sure they did," the older man replies, tugging on Feuilly's hand and moving him toward the exit. It's amazing, he thinks absently, how a room full of drunk and high people wearing costumes and masks and all manner of crazy things can suddenly sober up and run in a straight line when they're in danger. The large room is almost empty by the time they reach the door, although it's hard to see because of the smoke, and they slip out into the cool night sky as Feuilly raises his hand to his face and winces at the caked-on make-up that peels off.

Of course half of them have to be dressed as zombies or the undead or whatever the theme of the night was, but having all that fake blood and gore around is only going to make the paramedics' jobs hell looking for people that actually might be injured.

"Here," Bahorel pulls him off to the side and they can hear sirens wailing in the distance. "Just…text everybody and we'll try to meet up with them all here. They're fine," he adds and Feuilly knows they are, but he'll still feel better once he's actually seen everybody.

He's fumbling for his phone and starting to send off texts when he hears footsteps heading toward them and raises his head.

"Please tell me that's makeup," Joly looks frazzled as he rushes over, pointing at Feuilly who raises a hand to the side of his face and nods. He half-wishes he had a way to wash off all of the crap on his face because he doesn't want people asking him that all night and Joly apparently can read his mind because he's shoving a bad full of makeup removal cloths at him. "They're 'Chetta's. Obviously. But I mean, I thought a few of us might need them tonight," he pauses then and crosses his arms. "You haven't seen…"

"We'd tell you if we had," Bahorel promises as Feuilly keeps scrubbing at his face, frowning at the mess of brown-and-red that's staining the cloths. "You look mostly human again, by the way."

"Good," Feuilly decides that it's probably good enough for now and goes back to texting, trying not to worry when he's not getting any responses.

"I'm going to leave you two here and see if I can do anything to help," Joly says after a few moments of just listening to the sirens getting louder still. "Just, um…"

"We'll let you know if we see them," Feuilly assures him and Joly nods, waving as he heads back toward the club. He's barely got the texts sent out and his phone slipped back into his pocket before he gets hit by a mass of lanky limbs and he hugs back instinctively. "Jehan, it's been about ten minutes…"

"The last I saw of you, you were heading  _toward_ the fire so please excuse me for being relieved," the other man pulls back and his eyes are maybe too-bright in the dim light outside but Feuilly knows if he honestly took the time to sort out his emotions instead of trying to tamp down his worry he probably wouldn't be any better off.

"You boys do realize that 'outside, kind of around the corner of the building' aren't very helpful instructions, right?" a voice calls and Feuilly turns to look.

"Well, it's not like we've got a street address here," Bahorel yells back, grinning as Grantaire, Musichetta and Bossuet make their way over, the latter being held up by the other two. "You okay, there?"

"He, of course, had to trip on a bottle that was on the ground and rolled his ankle," Musichetta looks like she'd expected this to happen and Bossuet looks properly chagrined. "It's freezing out here," she rubs her arms and Grantaire shrugs his jacket off and holds it out. She takes it with a smile and puts it on, sighing at the warmth. "Well, at least  _one_ of you is a proper gentleman. Have you seen…"

"He's fine, he went to help the paramedics," Bahorel answers and it's honestly hard for Feuilly to tell if it's her or Bossuet that looks more relieved at the news. "So we're just waiting on…"

Feuilly compulsively checks his phone again, still telling himself not to worry.

"He's fine," Jehan says quietly and Feuilly nods.

"I know. I know he is, I'm not worried about him. Marius was with him last I saw and he's hardly the reckless type, but I'm not going to feel comfortable until I see him," he replies. That part's not a lie, but he's still not entirely sure if he's trying to suppress his feelings for the other man because part of him knows that it's not something that's going to last. Courfeyrac's not the type to settle down with one person, not really, and Feuilly's not so lost in romantic fantasies that he somehow believes  _he'll_ be the one to break him of his old habits.

Life, as he's been reminded far too often, fucking sucks, and maybe he's just not meant to have good things for very long.

There's a huge explosion behind them then, strong enough that the ground shakes, and Jehan clutches his arm as Feuilly stares at the flames shooting from the top of the building in horror. "Shit," Bahorel whispers at his side. "Fuck, if anybody's still in there…"

Feuilly's got his phone out again and growls in frustration, suppressing the urge to fling it to the ground because the fact that he's not getting an answer is  _not helping right now._

"Oh, my God…" Musichetta's holding onto Bossuet's arm far too tightly and the crack that slices through the night air makes them all flinch, a part of the roof caving in on itself as the flames lick higher.

"There's no way anybody can go back in now," Grantaire has an arm wrapped around his middle, his free hand still holding a bottle of beer because  _of course_ he'd even carry it through a fire, but he looks almost startlingly sober and haunted.

And Feuilly  _wants_ to go back, because if anybody can find a way he can, although his sense of self-preservation is too great to even take a step in the direction of the club. He needs to know. He doesn't care what the answer is, he  _needs to know._

"Quite the light show, isn't it?"

He nearly falls over at the voice behind them, schooling his face into a neutral expression because he's  _not that happy,_ but Courfeyrac's grinning and his face is streaked with soot and Marius looks exhausted but they're _alive_ and he's not sure he's ever been so grateful.

"You fucking bastard, we thought you were dead!" Bahorel grins at them and Courfeyrac shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and sniffing loudly.

"We're fine. Mostly. We were in the bathroom when the alarm went off and by the time we got out the back hall was full of smoke so we snuck out the emergency exit. It's not an experience I'd like to ever repeat, though," he rolls his eyes and Marius looks up and clears his throat, his eyes darting around.

"Are we all fine?"

"Yeah. Joly's doing his doctor-y thing somewhere but other than that…" Bahorel gestures and the other man nods.

"Good. Although I'm guessing somebody probably went and texted Enjolras and I'd better let him know I'm okay because otherwise he's going to do something stupid and hurt himself again," he pulls out his phone and sets about doing that while Courfeyrac wanders over to Feuilly, stopping a couple of feet away and shrugging.

"Were you worried?"

"Not particularly," he lies, and he knows that Courfeyrac  _knows_  he's lying from the way his eyes flash. "Okay, of course I was, but this isn't…we're not…"

"Come here already," Courfeyrac pulls him in and Feuilly clutches at the back of his coat. He smells like smoke and it's hardly a comfort but just physically touching him is enough right now. "Look, I know that we've…got a weird thing going on and for some reason we don't really show it in front of anybody else but…ah, to hell with it," he slides one hand behind Feuilly's neck into his hair and yanks him closer and Feuilly's not sure exactly _how_ they end up kissing but they do.

And it's heated and frantic and way,  _way_ more than he's ever felt assured enough to do in public before but they don't break apart until Bossuet wolf-whistles rather obnoxiously, and even then Courfeyrac won't let him move too far away.

"About time," Musichetta's smiling at them both and Courfeyrac opens his mouth to no doubt reply when Joly comes rushing back, Combeferre and Enjolras tailing him (although Enjolras is definitely moving a little slower than normal, but that's to be expected).

"They told us they had it under control," Joly rubs at his eyes with his sleeve and yawns. "And I'm exhausted so I say we all head to…somebody's place, since I don't think any of us want to be alone tonight."

"No," Marius says quietly before Enjolras embraces him and it's about the most emotion any of them have seen from the blond but it's probably warranted, and Marius is whispering something in his ear that's too low to catch but when Enjolras pulls away he stands up a little taller. "Are we…"

"We can go to mine. I think I've probably got the most space. And three beds if we pull the couch out," Jehan suggests, and nobody protests as they make their way to where the cars are still parked.

000

" _There are no known fatalities and all injuries reported were minor. The cause of the fire is still unknown but firefighters remain on the scene taking care of any remaining hotspots. A damage estimate will be released in the morning, but it's likely the building will have to be torn down as a large portion of the roof has collapsed. We'll bring you updates on this story as it continues to unfold."_

Marius tunes out the television at that point and snuggles back into his Enjolras' arms, eyes half-lidded and his body finally relaxing after the stress of the night. He hadn't exactly feared for his life at any point, although coming out of the washroom into a hallway so full of smoke they could barely see or breathe wasn't fun. Enjolras hasn't stopped touching him as if he's afraid Marius will disappear if he does, and Marius is actually kind of grateful for the attention and the obvious indications that Enjolras really  _does_ care for him on a fairly deep level.

Even if it's not love it's still something special. And he's just exhausted and worn-out enough that he doesn't care anymore what answer he gets, if he gets one at all.

"I'm okay," he says first, and Enjolras nods and buries his face against the younger man's neck. "I am. I didn't mean to worry you…"

"Now I know how you felt when I got hurt," Enjolras replies. "It's…you know what I'm like, I like to be in control and having something like that happen where there's nothing I can do is terrifying."

"I know," Marius promises, because of course he does, and he strokes his fingers through the other man's hair and lets his eyes slide closed because he's warm and safe and…if he dares to think it… _loved_ and that's such an incredible feeling.

"And I'm the one that told you to go there tonight in the first place, so if anything had happened to you…"

"But it didn't. And in the end it  _was_  my choice, you didn't force me to go," he has to point out although Enjolras merely shrugs at that and doesn't respond. "I never thought I'd have to tell you to stop worrying, but  _stop worrying._ Everything's okay," he says as confidently as he can although his words are starting to slur with exhaustion and he can tell by the slump of Enjolras' shoulders that he's feeling the same way.

He doesn't particularly want to move from the armchair, because he's comfortable, and he reaches over to grab one of the blankets that Jehan's brought into the living room before spreading it over them and nestling down farther.

"Try to sleep, okay?" he asks, knowing Enjolras probably won't otherwise, and his boyfriend's response is to kiss his forehead and hold him tightly, and Marius hums and blames his next words on his almost-asleep state because he still doesn't think he'd be brave enough to say them otherwise. "I love you."

He falls asleep just after the last word has left his mouth so he doesn't hear if Enjolras says anything in response.


	21. Chapter 21

He doesn't, as it turns out, but that's largely because he has  _no idea_ what to say. And by the time he realizes that Marius is, in fact, asleep it's too late to say anything at all and he stays quiet and tries to get some rest himself.

Which doesn't really work, and after an hour or two of staring at the darkness and trying to will himself asleep he decides to head to the kitchen for a glass of water, or at least something to get him moving and take his mind off of what it's currently obsessing about.

"Can't sleep?"

"Hey," he looks over at Grantaire, who's seated at the table and apparently playing Solitaire. "I take it you have the same problem?"

"Mm," he agrees vaguely, before continuing with, "are we still friends or will you yell at me for speaking my mind?" and Enjolras sighs heavily because, yes, he deserves that one.

"Of course we are," he opens the fridge and decides if Jehan's going to complain about him stealing a bottle of water he'll pay him back later. Crossing to the table, he sits down carefully in an empty chair and leans forward. "So what are you afraid of telling me?"

"You look like a man who's just seen the apocalypse," Grantaire says idly, shifting some cards around. "And I know it's not from your injury anymore. So if you want somebody to talk to…"

"I'm not sure I can say this without…revealing too much, but…"

"Marius is in love with you and you don't know what to do about that," Grantaire doesn't even  _look_ at him and Enjolras would react more strongly but obviously he's known for a while. Which, of course, raises the question of how many  _other_ people know.

"How…"

"He told me. Well, I'm pretty sure he's told all of us, because he was asking for advice and whether or not he should tell you. So I'm guessing he has?" he finally stops shuffling through the cards and looks up.

"He has. He…fell asleep right after he said it so I don't even know if he was conscious of it, but at least it saved me from an answer. But if he remembers when he wakes up…"

"You think he's going to expect one and you have no idea what to say to him," Grantaire guesses, tilting his head to the side before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.. "Well, I can't help you there. If you're not in love with him, there's not much you  _can_ say."

"I think that might be the problem," Enjolras knows he might be revealing too much about himself but Grantaire, at least, seems to understand love a hell of a lot better than he ever has. "I don't know what it feels like to be in love."

"It's not like the movies, you know," Grantaire laughs quietly. "It's not some revelation like you've been struck by a bolt of lightning and suddenly you realize it. At least, I don't think it is. It's just…a feeling. And it's probably different for everybody, but that doesn't mean it's not love just because it's not exactly the same," he goes back flipping cards over, his next shuffle bringing the Queen of Hearts to the surface, and sighs heavily. "How appropriate. But answer me this: tonight, when you heard the club was on fire…what did you feel?"

"What did I…" Enjolras pauses, because amidst the general adrenaline rush and the feeling that he  _had_  to be there… "Fear. A lot of fear. But not the…not the crippling kind that keeps you from moving. Even though I didn't know what I would find, I knew I had to see it for myself. And then just…anger, wanting to hurt whoever had caused this, whoever had maybe hurt Marius. But fear and anger aren't love," he shakes the thought off because no, that can't be, but Grantaire is looking at him with something far too close to pity. "What?"

"I think you might be closer than you realize. For me, once you…once you care about somebody else more than yourself? Once you start to worry about them more than your own safety?  _That_ is what love is," he turns some more cards over and goes back to playing properly. "But I know me telling you that isn't going to help you, because you have to believe it for yourself."

"Maybe," Enjolras takes another sip of the water, because if nothing else this conversation has left him with a lot to think about, and he stands up and looks back toward the living room.

"Go back to sleep," Grantaire suggests, not unkindly. "I know you're not as healed as you're pretending to be."

"You should get some rest, too," he says in return, and Grantaire's reply is to shrug and keep playing.

"I will. Once I'm finished the game," he looks down, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Okay. And…thank you," Enjolras didn't think he'd ever be saying those words to Grantaire, of all people, but the other man looks up to smile at him like he's just been given some amazing gift and Enjolras nods quickly before going back into the other room, trying not to wake Marius as he settles himself in the armchair again and failing when the younger man stirs.

"Where were you?"

"Just getting a drink of water," he says honestly, because that had been partially true. "Go back to sleep."

"Yeah," Marius shifts enough that he can pull the blanket up before nuzzling his nose against Enjolras' neck and getting comfortable again. And Enjolras knows that he has his chance, that he can bring it up now or forever wonder, before he can think too hard he's asking:

"Marius? About what you said before…"

"What did I say?" Marius asks, sounding half-asleep again and not at all suspicious, and Enjolras feels whatever spurt of courage he'd just gained leave him and shakes his head, kissing the other man's forehead and letting his fingers trail through Marius' dark hair.

"Nothing. It wasn't important," he says with as much conviction as he can, getting a 'mm, okay,' in reply, and wonders when exactly he became such a coward about this.

000

"So you think he lied to avoid bringing up the question?" Feuilly looks at Marius from across the kitchen table. He's working, or at least he was until Marius decided to accost him, but he doesn't look perturbed even though he's covered in paint splatters and currently has a brush tucked behind his ear. "Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything. I need a break anyway."

"Okay," Marius decides to take him at his word. "And no, I know he lied."

"And so did you," the other man has to point out and Marius can't really refute that. "And I'm guessing it was for much the same reason, because you're both afraid of what the other is feeling."

"I just…I don't know how to tell him that I don't care if he's in love with me, and that it doesn't change my feelings or the fact that I want him to know them," Marius knows the words sound hollow, they  _feel_ hollow, but he can't do much about that.

"Except you  _do_ care, and you want him to be in love with you," Feuilly, of course, can see right through him, and Marius nods slowly. "I can't help you, Marius. I want to, but this time I think you need to figure it out on your own."

"Are you in love?" Marius isn't sure why he's asking the question, but maybe somewhere deep inside it'll help to know that they're not the only ones struggling with this whole…love thing.

Feuilly looks up, his eyes widening the slightest amount before his face turns impassive again. "That's irrelevant."

"Maybe. But I'd still like an answer," Marius presses, and Feuilly finally leans forward and sighs in resignation.

"Yes. I am. I'm a fucking idiot for it, but I am. And I know he'll never admit it, so for me it really is easier to just…not let whatever we have be about love," he finishes.

"How did you…I mean, the two of you, how did it start, anyway?" Marius has been wondering this for a while, really, and it's not just an attempt to change the subject away from him and Enjolras (although it's also that, because after obsessing about it for days he's mentally exhausted).

"I…trust me, it's not nearly as good a tale as you and Enjolras drunkenly making out at a party. I can't even remember, exactly, but I think we were at the  _Musain_ one night and he asked me why I was never looking for somebody to hook up with. So I gave him the 'I have no time and money to have a girlfriend' answer and he made some joke about 'would you do it with somebody who didn't expect anything from you?' and, I mean, I  _thought_ he was joking because I'd never seen him take any interest in men before that. And, well, somehow I ended up back here and…" he shrugs. "I've never put much stock in sexuality, myself, I figure that as long as there's some sort of connection it doesn't matter what you've got under your clothes, and we were already close enough friends that I think we both knew it wouldn't wreck anything with the whole group dynamic," he cuts off, shrugging. "And after that it kind of…kept happening. Until we've gotten to where we are now. Whatever that is," he looks like he doesn't want to talk about it anymore and Marius thinks that at least he's gotten his answer.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think he loves you."

"And I think Enjolras loves  _you,_ but until they say it that doesn't really get us anywhere," he point out, rather logically, but Marius sees a sort of opening and maybe it's not the most honorable thing to do, but it's one that'll keep him from chickening out about all of this so he takes it.

"I'll admit it if you do. I mean, I'll tell him that I know what I said that night if you, you know…" he stops because Feuilly's glaring at him and that's not a look he's seen often on his face.

"Emotional manipulation. Didn't think you had that in you," he smiles good-naturedly a second later and huffs a quiet laugh. "But okay. Sure. Why not. I mean, maybe he runs away screaming, but that's about the worst that'll happen."

"So it's a deal?" Marius holds out his hand and Feuilly hesitates only the briefest of seconds before clasping it firmly with his own and shaking it.

"It's a deal."

000

"Guess we'll need to find a new place to hang out, huh?"

It's a couple of nights later and most of them are congregated at Jehan's again, watching the news for any updates on the club fire, but so far there's no definitive answer as to how and why it started but with how crazy it had been in there that night it doesn't come as any surprise to any of them that something had gone wrong.

Enjolras swivels his head around to look at Bahorel, who'd been the one to speak, and replies, "I'm sure there are more clubs in the city."

"Of course there are, but you know I always got you guys in there cover-free and without anybody checking for proper ID, so you're gonna have to give me a week or two to find some connections and another place where I can make that work," he wraps his arms around his knees and looks at the room at large.

"We have faith in you," Courfeyrac salutes him and Bahorel returns it with a grin. "And if not, well, just find a place with hot bartenders and I'm sure I can convince them to let me in with a few guests," he winks and Enjolras resists the urge to smack his head against the wall because God, he really never stops.

Feuilly clears his throat pointedly and Courfeyrac glances over, obviously abashed.

"It's just flirting! I wouldn't…you  _know_ I wouldn't…"

"I know you wouldn't, but how easy you slip back into using sex as a bargaining chip is kind of worrying," he says firmly, and Courfeyrac sighs and drops his head onto the other man's shoulder.

"Never, okay?"

"Sure," Feuilly doesn't look upset, though, and Enjolras knows he'll never  _quite_ understand how they work or why they work, but he's glad for both of them that they do.

And he's still the biggest chicken in the world because he can't bring up what Marius had said, and it might be his imagination, but the other man had been a bit skittish around him since that night (although he's curled rather comfortably into his side now).

"Shh, guys," Bossuet points at the screen, where the picture has shifted to a reporter standing outside the charred remains of the  _Musain_ building (and Enjolras doesn't have much attachment to structures as a rule, but they'd all had some good times there and it was sad to see it reduced to this).

_"It is believed the fire started in the kitchen and spread quickly, but the exact cause remains unknown. The building will have to be demolished and as of yet the owners are unsure if they are going to rebuild. All of the injuries sustained by patrons of the club that night were minor, and neighboring buildings have minimal smoke and water damage, but it could have been much worse."_

"I guess that's that, then," Bahorel says. "I'll start looking for a new place tomorrow."

Nobody says anything, but Enjolras can tell by looking around that the memory and the initial fear is still too fresh for a lot of them to be completely over it, and he might hold Marius a little tighter since  _he's_ not really over it either, but nobody except him is going to notice.


	22. Chapter 22

Marius doesn’t get a chance to talk to Enjolras for a while because things have gotten crazy with school.  Or at least, that’s what he tells himself several times a day when that tiny part of his brain that won’t shut up keeps piping up to ask why he’s not facing this issue head-on yet.  But school _is_ crazy, with the end of term coming up there’s final projects and studying and he’s swamped because yeah, university kind of piles on the work much more than high school ever did, and most free nights find them maybe in each other’s company but each occupied with their own assignments. 

The days are getting colder and shorter and Enjolras is almost back to his old self as far as mobility is concerned, although he complains at length that they’ve missed their chance for an organized protest until spring because nobody’s going to listen to their points when it’s freezing outside (Marius can’t say he’s entirely disappointed because, honestly, he doesn’t want to have to _give_ those points while it’s freezing outside). 

Still, he can’t help feeling like their relationship’s at some sort of an impasse, and they’re altogether too young to be stuck in some sort of old married couple rut, but he’s just kind of accepted that until both of them get more _time_ they can’t do much else.  Courfeyrac asks him about four times a week if he’s sure he doesn’t want sex advice, and Marius can’t really deny that it’s been on his mind, but so far it’s not something that’s _vital_ for him even though he’s starting to wonder if Enjolras has any sexual inclinations at all because they seem to be few and far between if they exist. 

But the month wears on and they’re all pre-occupied doing their own things, and when December is fast approaching Marius realizes that he really has no idea what he’s doing for Christmas but also that the time off would be the perfect time for them to talk about everything they’ve been avoiding since October. 

If, that is, he’s finally brave enough to broach the topic. 

000

“Have you told him yet?”

“Nope.  You?”

“Nope.”

“This is a _fascinating_ conversation, gentlemen, but please have some respect for people that _don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,”_ Bahorel looks vaguely annoyed (although that’s not unusual where he’s concerned) and Marius feels a little guilty although really, it’s his own fault for bringing it up. 

“Marius and I have a little…shall we say agreement that we’ll tell our respective partners that we love them,” Feuilly says rather matter-of-factly, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a take-out cup of coffee as they walk down the street back toward the main campus. 

“And you’re both not doing this because…”

“School.  Busy,” Marius realizes he’s reverted to talking like a caveman but he doesn’t want to have this conversation here. 

“I don’t have that excuse,” Feuilly sighs and shrugs his shoulders, curling into himself against the wind while he reaches to wrap his scarf a little tighter.  “It’s just…it’s not fear, exactly, because I know he won’t judge me for it, but I guess I like what we have now and I don’t want to say anything that’s going to change it.  So I’ve been putting it off,” he doesn’t sound particularly concerned about it.  “You probably think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.  I’ve had girlfriends, I know how these things work,” Bahorel frowns.  “I mean, I’ve never been in love with anybody, but it’s not like I think it’s not real or anything.  Honestly, you both make it seem like I’m some sort of ogre,” he sniffs and pulls a cigarette out of his pocket before lighting it. 

“You kind of have a reputation.  I mean, I was scared of you…” Marius points out and the other man grins at him. 

“A reputation is all it is, really.  And I’m not _that_ scary, am I?”

“Not once I’ve gotten to know you,” he admits. 

“Good.  So I’m going to tell you both of this lovingly, as a friend, but man up and grow a pair and just tell them already,” he jumps ahead as Feuilly smacks his arm and looks back with a grin.  “I’m serious.  Besides, it’s Christmas, the season of joy and light and goodwill toward man and all that shit.  It’d just be mean to say anything bad about it,” he turns around so he’s walking backward, still smoking, and it looks dangerous even though he seems to be unconcerned. 

“If you fall off the sidewalk and break your neck I’m leaving you here,” Feuilly tells him bluntly and Bahorel finally drops back so he’s walking even with them (and facing the right direction this time).

“Okay, now I know you’re just scared, because you only get bitchy when you’re nervous,” he looks from one of them to the other.  “So, I mean, do what you want, but it’s obvious that it’s bothering both of you and it’d probably be easier to just get it over with.”

“He’s kind of right,” Marius pipes up, because honestly it _has_ been on his mind more often than not and knowing one way or the other, even if it’s not the answer he’s hoping for, will bring him a little peace of mind. 

“I know he is,” Feuilly looks down at his feet as they wander along and his posture looks utterly resigned.  “Okay.  Okay, I’ll do it.  Um…” he turns to Marius and rubs the back of his neck. 

“You’re telling me you want me out of the house because if he’s cool with it you two are going to be…” he waves his hand and Bahorel snickers.  “It’s fine.  I…probably have to go see Enjolras anyway, and I’m hoping he’ll let me stay…”

“And if somebody kicks somebody out you can crash with me for the night, I don’t mind,” Bahorel claps them both on the shoulder and pushes them slightly ahead.  “Now go!  Fight for your men!”

“I don’t know him,” Feuilly decides as he starts to walk faster, and Marius keeps pace with him until they get to where they have to part ways.  “Well, good luck.  I don’t think you’ll need it, but…”

“I don’t think you will, either,” Marius smiles at him and offers his hand anyway, and Feuilly shakes it with a rueful laugh before turning away and disappearing down the street.

000

“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you tonight,” Enjolras is seated on his bed (mostly because Combeferre has a mountain of textbooks on the kitchen table and it’s impossible to grab any space of his own out there) but truth be told he’s glad for the interruption.  He’s been reading books for so long the words are starting to blur in front of his eyes and Marius coming over is really the best distraction he could ask for. 

“Well, I thought I’d drop in, make sure you’re not working yourself to death,” he’s hovering in the doorway, hands fluttering enough to make Enjolras nervous just watching him, and the older man instinctively knows this isn’t just a friendly visit. 

“Something on your mind?” he shoves some books onto the floor and pats the bed beside him, waiting for Marius to take a seat and give him some sort of answer. 

“No…I mean, yes…I mean…fuck it, it’s easier if I just come out and say it.  That night after the fire at the club, when you asked me about what I said just before I fell asleep and I told you that I didn’t remember…”

“You did,” Enjolras has to admit that he’d kind of always known, or at least had a pretty good idea. 

“Yeah,” Marius sighs and wraps his arms around himself, not looking at Enjolras.  “I guess I was afraid of your answer.  Or if you didn’t answer.  And I thought that if you believed I’d forgotten about it you wouldn’t bring it up, but that’s…kind of an awful thing for me to do,” he admits. 

Enjolras moves a little closer and reaches to rest a hand on his shoulder, needing him to know that it’s okay.  “I’m just as much at fault, because I could have said something anyway but I was…afraid that you’d expect an answer, and I can’t…”

“I know,” Marius is smiling, sort of, but it looks pained and less than genuine and it hurts a little to know that he’s the reason for it.  “I do.  I don’t…you don’t have to say anything back,” he’s still not meeting the other man’s eyes and Enjolras doesn’t know what that means, so he lets himself move on instinct and hugs Marius from behind, his chin hooking over the other man’s shoulder. 

“I care deeply for you.  I don’t know if it’s love, or if I have no idea what love really is, but I don’t want you thinking that this will change anything with us,” he says honestly, and Marius thankfully relaxes back into his embrace. 

“I know it won’t.  I’m just…relieved to hear you say that, I guess,” he pauses for a moment. 

“How about this,” Enjolras thinks about his next words carefully because it’s still rare for him to have somebody he can be completely honest and open with.  “From now on, neither of us should be worried about saying how we feel, because the only way this is going to work is if we’re honest.  And I know that’s going to be hard for me,” he admits. 

“Probably,” Marius chuckles, shifting so that he’s finally facing Enjolras as he lets his arms drape around the blond’s neck.  “But thank you.  Knowing you’re going to make the effort is nice.” 

There’s a moment of stillness where they’re both just staring at each other, and it makes Enjolras feel incredibly vulnerable but he forces the instinct to close himself off down, his hands sliding to rest on Marius’ hips as Marius turns around fully, knees on the bed bracketing Enjolras’ legs. 

“I was thinking,” Enjolras knows he’s in completely uncharted waters here but he has to keep reminding himself that they’re _boyfriends_ and it’s perfectly normal to ask this sort of thing.  “You know, I’ve never seen you shirtless.  Which is kind of unfair, considering…”

“Yeah?” Marius is smiling, at least.  “I guess we can do something about that…” he leans in and Enjolras laughs into the kiss, his hands sliding under Marius’ shirt and up his back as the younger man pushes him back fully on the bed. 

“Enjolras, have you seen a textbook around here, I could have sworn…right.  Should have known.”

“Oh, God,” Marius jumps to the side so fast he nearly falls off the bed, cheeks red and looking absolutely mortified. 

“So, um, there’s a reason doors were invented,” Combeferre looks more amused than anything.  “And I have to say, when I moved in with Enjolras I never would have imagined we’d need to make rules about having people over…”

“It’s not like that, we were just…” Marius trails off once he realizes that Combeferre isn’t being entirely serious and then laughs nervously, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

“I know.  But just…keep the door closed,” he nods to them and turns around, closing the door himself. 

“It’s fine,” Enjolras reaches to tug Marius closer, hands sliding under his shirt again until Marius swats them away in annoyance and sits up enough to pull the shirt off himself.  “You’re, um…”

“Say it,” Marius urges, but his eyes are sparkling and he doesn’t look nervous in the least (and he shouldn’t, because he’s got nothing to be ashamed of).  “I mean, I may not wander around half-naked like Courfeyrac does all the time but I’m not that self-conscious.”

“You’re gorgeous.  Really.”

“Not compared to you, but thank you,” he moves so he’s pretty much straddling Enjolras again.  “Would it be a problem if I stayed the night?”

“Are there…things going on at your place?” Enjolras raises an eyebrow because he’s certainly not _opposed_ to Marius staying over but it’s not something that happens often. 

“Sort of. Feuilly and I might have had a bit of a…deal going on that if I told you I loved you he’d tell Courfeyrac that…and you know, if things go well over there I don’t want to be there for it,” he grimaces and Enjolras grins and kisses him, pulling him down so they’re pressed together. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night,” he assures Marius.  “And they’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Marius sighs and arches his back as Enjolras slides his hands up his bare skin, and this is probably farther than they’ve ever gone before but he feels…good about all of it.  Really good, in fact.  “So.  Since your wonderful roommate’s pretty much given us permission to make out…”

“Yeah, we should get on that,” Enjolras agrees, kissing Marius before he can say anything else, and maybe he’s not ready to _admit_ that he’s in love yet, but if this is what love feels like it’s something he never wants to lose. 


	23. Chapter 23

“I wondered when you’d get here.”

“Fucking hell!” Feuilly slams his back against the door, pocketknife already in his hand as he stares wide-eyed at the living room, and Courfeyrac should probably be a little afraid but he’s not.  Not anymore.  “Um.  Hi?”

“Hey,” he uncrosses his legs, looking at the other man. 

“Do you normally wait half-naked in the dark for your guests?” Feuilly tucks the knife away and takes his coat and scarf off, kicking off his shoes and draping the clothing over a chair before moving into the living room.  “Because I might have an issue with that.”

“There’s a light!” Courfeyrac protests, because he’s got a side-table lamp on, but he knows Feuilly well enough that he’s aware the other man will bolt the first chance he can and Courfeyrac wants to prevent that.  “But Bahorel might have sent me a rather…interesting text.  Something about you needing to tell me something.”

“I’m actually going to kill him,” Feuilly sits down beside the other man and drops his head into his hand.  “I swear he gets off on getting involved in other peoples’ business.”

“He knows you too well, that’s all,” Courfeyrac still doesn’t touch his lover because he needs to be cautious about this.  “But you should know that whatever you want to tell me, you can.”

“Not this,” Feuilly shakes his head. 

“Look, let’s just say I have an idea of what you’re going to say, and if that’s what it is, I need you to know that I feel the same,” he feels something in his chest tighten when he says those words because he’s been so afraid of commitment for so long that this…it’s _big_ , but he’s known for a while now that his playboy image isn’t something he wants to be known for forever and, well, maybe he’s growing up, but he _does_ want more than that. 

“Please don’t say that just to make me feel better.  I don’t want you to lie because you think it’s what I need to hear if I’m going to stick around,” his voice is completely devoid of emotion and Courfeyrac slides closer now. 

“I’m not.  I promise I’d never do that to you.  Just….tell me what you’re scared of,” he prompts and Feuilly looks at him, rolling his eyes before staring at the floor again. 

“I’m not scared,” he all but scoffs and Courfeyrac knows that they’re okay. 

“Then say it,” he lets his hand rest on the other man’s knee and Feuilly groans in resignation.  “This is good for both of us.”

“I know.  I…I love you.  Okay.”

“Well don’t make it sound like it’s such an unsavory thing to say,” Courfeyrac sniffs and Feuilly elbows him.  “Abuse.”

“Stop whining,” Feuilly turns so that they’re staring at each other.  “So we’re good.”

“We’re so good.  And I love you, too.  If you needed to hear it.”

“It helps,” he admits.  “And, um, this may have been presumptuous, but…”

“Marius isn’t coming home tonight so we can be as loud as we want to,” Courfeyrac grins at Feuilly’s rather indignant glare, because yes, Bahorel’s texts had been rather…thorough. 

“I _am_ going to kill him.”

“Don’t, it’d be hard to have sex in jail,” Courfeyrac stands up and tugs on the other man’s hand until he’s standing as well.  “So?  Bedroom?”

“Yeah.  Bedroom,” Feuilly squeezes his hand and Courfeyrac thinks idly that he should be mourning the loss of his old life much more than he is right now.  Maybe it really is just getting older or maturing or whatever you want to call it, or maybe he’s just turning into a sap, but whatever it is, he can’t bring himself to care.

000

“So I guess everything worked out.”

“This shouldn’t surprise me anymore.  Why does it still surprise me?” Enjolras mutters under his breath and Marius laughs brightly, tugging his boyfriend over to the table where Jehan and Musichetta are in the middle of breakfast. 

“Honestly, when I started hanging out with a bunch of guys I expected there to be a lot less gossip and whispering about other people but I think you’re all actually worse than my girlfriends,” Musichetta puts in, looking amused. 

Marius sits down and pulls Enjolras down beside him, still feeling ridiculously happy and relieved because truthfully last night had gone better than he could have thought. 

“Who do I need to blame for this?” Enjolras asks sternly, looking like he’s going to head off right then.

“Bahorel,” comes a voice from behind them and Marius turns as Courfeyrac and Feuilly walk into the coffee shop.  “And I’m just as inclined to cause him permanent physical harm as you are,” Feuilly sinks into another free chair and groans.  “But am I right?”

“Yeah,” Jehan admits with a slightly embarrassed shrug.  “But it’s good!  I mean…”

“No, don’t go on a love speech,” Courfeyrac plops himself down on Feuilly’s lap and stares at the poet sternly.  “I mean it, Jehan, you know that’s not what it’s like.”

Jehan shrugs but says nothing more, smiling into his cup of coffee instead, and Courfeyrac looks relieved as he changes the subject. 

“Anyway, enough about our personal lives, what’s the plan for the holidays?”

“Plan?” Marius looks up, confused, although he should have known that most people _would_ have holiday plans and just because he really has no family that’s speaking to him at the moment doesn’t mean the others will be that way. 

“Yeah, there’s always an amazing fireworks display across the lake for New Year’s, so we all try to be back here before the 31st, but Christmas week the school pretty much shuts down and nobody really hangs around,” Musichetta explains.  “Bossuet and I are going over to Joly’s, I think.  I might go visit my parents for a few days, but otherwise you all could have probably guessed what I’d be up to.”

“And I, as always, will be expected to make an appearance at my family’s Christmas party and probably entertain a few more girls that I’ll have to figure out a way to let down,” Enjolras is frowning down at the table.  “I’m sorry that I can’t…spend it with you,” he says, but Marius shrugs and shakes his head. 

“I get it.  Sometimes family comes first.”

“At least you’ll have me,” Jehan puts in and Marius looks at him curiously.  “Our families have known each other since our parents were young, so Enjolras and I practically grew up together.  I mean, we weren’t really more than acquaintances until high school, but our parents always go to the same parties over the holidays.”

“And I’m grateful, because having _somebody_ there that knows the truth will be helpful if I want to vent,” Enjolras smiles at the other man, who nods in return. 

“Well, I guess I’ll have the campus to myself, then,” Marius tries to adopt the lightest tone he can but it still comes out at least a little petulant, and Courfeyrac leans over and swats his arm. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Come home with me.  I’ve got a guest room and my parents won’t care,” he shrugs and crosses his legs, one arm looped around Feuilly’s neck for balance and looking far more comfortable than he should. 

“I couldn’t impose…”

“You’re not, trust me.  Mom and Dad always make enough food for about twenty people so they’ll be glad somebody’s there to eat more of it.  Two somebodies,” he says pointedly and Feuilly sighs, which makes Marius believe they’ve had this conversation before. 

“I couldn’t…”

“No, you’re going to spend Christmas in your little ramshackle apartment cold and alone when you could spend it with my family.”

“You’ve only got one guest room, and if Marius…”

“I’m an adult and if I want to sleep in the same bed as my boyfriend I don’t think my parents have any right to tell me I can’t,” there’s something defiant in his tone and Feuilly stares up at him. 

“What are you…they _know?”_

 _“_ Of course they know!  I wasn’t going to keep it from them, and honestly I think they were more relieved that I wasn’t calling to tell them I’d gotten some girl pregnant so me having a boyfriend is probably preferable,” he grins and Feuilly looks a little more relieved. 

“Do they know I have no family and no money and can barely pay my rent every month?”

“Mm-hmm, and they don’t care, because I’ve made it very clear to them that you’re not using me for money.  They want to meet you,” he adds and Feuilly looks skyward as if he’s asking for strength. 

“I…God, yes, I’d actually love to spend the holidays with a…a family,” he nods and squawks as Courfeyrac hugs him, the chair tipping a little precariously.  “But it still seems unfair that I have to meet the parents and be all nervous and you won’t…”

“I had to deal with these two to get approval, and trust me, they’re far scarier than my parents,” Courfeyrac jerks his head toward Jehan and Enjolras. 

“That’s true, I think we did our job well,” Enjolras looks rather proud of himself for that one and Feuilly hooks his chin over Courfeyrac’s shoulder and shrugs, although it’s obvious he’s grateful they’ve been looking out for him all along. 

“So,” Courfeyrac looks back at Marius.  “Yes?  No?”

“Yes,” Marius takes a breath and nods.  “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to, nobody should have to spend the holidays by themselves,” the other man replies, and Marius is reminded again that no matter how much Courfeyrac seems to have sex on his brain all the time, he really does care deeply about seeing his friends happy and included. 

Marius smiles and nods at his roommate, feeling like maybe the holidays aren’t going to be nearly as sad and lonely as he’d feared they might.

000

“He said it and you couldn’t say it back.”

“Are you actually psychic or do you just delight in freaking me out on a daily basis?” Enjolras flops ack on his bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling the mattress dip when Combeferre sits beside him. 

“Neither, I just know you too well and you may think yourself guarded, but you’re far too easy for me to read, my friend,” the other man replies, laying back beside him and glancing over. 

“Only for you.  And only because you’ve been my best friend for more years than I can even remember,” Enjolras turns his head so they’re looking at each other.  “But yes.  He did, and I didn’t, and he says he’s okay with it, and…”

“And because he’s Marius he’s telling the truth and you need to _stop worrying,”_ Combeferre says gently.  “I know you love him.  All of us do.  But until you believe it and feel like you’re not lying to make him feel better, you’re never going to say it.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I can’t help you there.  Love…is definitely not my department,” Combeferre shrugs, not looking ashamed about that at all. 

“This would all be so much easier if I could just say it, and I have no idea what’s holding me back anymore,” he admits, feeling the other man’s hand lightly clasp his shoulder in a tiny attempt to comfort. 

“Well, you’ll have time over Christmas to think about it, and maybe in between fending off all of the girls you’ll find your answer,” he’s obviously teasing now and Enjolras swats at him feebly but has to admit he’s got a point. 

“Jehan said he’d help.”

“The day Jehan seriously looks at a woman is the day I don’t finish a homework assignment on time,” Combeferre mutters under his breath and Enjolras smiles to himself at the truth in that statement.   “Look, all I can tell you is that the more you stress about it, the less likely it is that it’s going to happen.  Just…turn off your incredibly overworked brain and think with this for a change,” Combeferre places his hand on Enjolras’ chest.  “And I know that probably sounds really stupid coming from me, but I think it’s what you need to do.”

“It does, a little, but maybe you’re right,” Enjolras turns so he’s lying on his back again and closes his eyes. 

“I usually am.”

“Hmm,” Enjolras doesn’t outright agree but he knows that Combeferre’s, well, right when he says that as well, and the other man pats his chest a second later. 

“Come on, to thank me for my invaluable advice you’re going to help me study,” he’s out of the room before Enjolras can say no which really doesn’t leave him much choice in the matter, but honestly, he can’t say he minds all that much. 


	24. Chapter 24

Christmas is lovely.  Marius can’t really remember the last time it’s just been a day to relax and lay around all day instead of having _some_ obligation toward his family.  Courfeyrac’s parents obviously have money but apparently don’t need to flaunt it in social circles the way Enjolras’ do, and their house is far enough out of the city that it’s quiet and relaxing. 

“You heard from your man yet?” Courfeyrac accosts him the day before they’re supposed to head back into the city, deciding that it’s a good idea to drop nearly into Marius’ lap instead of taking another chair like a normal person would. 

“Not anything important.  Just…complaints, mostly, about the girls his parents are trying to set him up with and how Jehan’s no help at all,” he laughs and Courfeyrac rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, well, we all could have told him that.  He should have invited me,” he grins and Marius nudges him with his shoulder even though he knows that, for whatever reason, Courfeyrac has enough charm to make everybody fall for him. 

“Thanks again.  For inviting me.  Your parents are really great,” Marius says sincerely and Courfeyrac nods. 

“They are.  I mean, I always knew they were, but I’ve gotta say I was kind of…surprised at how well they took the news of me bringing a boyfriend home.  Not that they’re ones to judge, but it’s not as if I’ve ever really shown interest in anything but women before so it’s not as if they had much warning,” he muses, staring out the window at the snow-covered ground outside. 

“So you’re bi.  So what?” Marius asks honestly.  “I mean, I guess I am, too, but really you should be glad they don’t seem to care who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah, I know,” Courfeyrac sighs.  “And you totally can’t say you’d sleep with a girl, I mean, when you and what’s-her-name had that thing it was so painfully platonic and innocent I don’t know how you could stand it,” he teases and yes, Marius has to admit, he has a point, but at the same time…

“It’s not like Enjolras and I have done much more than that, though.”

“Wait, you’re _still_ not fucking?”

“Can you not yell loud enough for the whole house to hear?” Marius hisses, trying to shush the other man.  “No, we’re not.”

“I just…I don’t… _why?_ Are you…you know, do you have performance anxiety?  Not able to rise to the occasion?” he’s obviously joking but Marius doesn’t really appreciate it right then. 

“Shut up.  And no, it’s not that, it’s just…it’s never felt right.  I think we’re both scared of screwing this up so it’s easier to not think about sex,” he adds, because that’s the best explanation he’s been able to work out, and Courfeyrac sighs dramatically. 

“Such a shame.  If I was his boyfriend I’d never be able to keep my hands off him…”

“Heard that!”

“Why is it you always hear when I’m talking about how hot somebody else is?” Courfeyrac calls in the direction of the kitchen and Feuilly wanders out a moment later, a mug of something that’s steaming quite heartily clasped between his hands. 

“Sixth sense.  I need it with you,” he crosses the room and stares out the window.  There’s snow falling now and it’s peaceful, so far removed from the bustle of life around the campus even though they’re barely out of the city at all. 

“Come.  Sit,” Courfeyrac pats the chair and Feuilly gives him a rather annoyed look.  “What?”

“That chair is meant for one person and there’s already two of you on it.”

“Yeah, but you’re like a stick, so sit,” Courfeyrac tugs at the sleeve of his sweater and Feuilly sighs and does, bracing his elbow on the armrest so that his cup stays upright.  “My parents haven’t been giving you trouble, have they?”

“Strangely enough, they’ve been warning me about _you_ , not the other way around.  I think they’re confused why a ‘nice boy’ like me is your boyfriend, and I didn’t quite have the heart to tell them that I’m really not that innocent,” he chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.  “Oh, and would you happen to know what this…surprise Jehan says he has for me once we get back is about?  You know I hate surprises.”

“Which is why he’s not telling you.  You’ll like it,” Courfeyrac pats his arm and winks at Marius, even though Marius has no idea what they’re talking about. 

“I’d better,” Feuilly mutters before leaning forward so that he can look at Marius.  “Anyway, back to what you were discussing before I came in, you just need to relax and let things happen naturally.  There’s nothing worse than trying to force yourself to be intimate because you think you should for some reason.  If it’s going to happen, it will, but you have to give it a chance to,” he smiles reassuringly and Marius thinks that it’s probably better advice than anything Courfeyrac’s given him. 

“So sometime in the next week I’ll vacate for the night and you can have the place all to yourself, no interruptions,” Courfeyrac offers and wow, okay, next week is soon, but then…but then, he’s just making excuses again and he has to face up to this sometime. 

“Yeah.  Sounds good,” he nods quickly and Courfeyrac rubs his shoulder. 

“Seriously, Marius, you’ve got nothing to worry about.  Either of you.  So stop freaking out and worrying about every little thing and just trust your instincts,” he advises and Marius has to admit that he has a point and maybe he should just…do that. 

Or something.

“Trust me, you’ve got nothing to be scared of,” Feuilly adds, reaching across Courfeyrac to pat Marius’ knee, and Marius almost believes him.

000

And, as it turns out, he had nothing to be scared of.  Because apparently it’s amazing what knowing you have complete privacy and several hours alone will do, and added to the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in over a week everything seemed a little less…inhibited than they normally were. 

“You’re thinking way too hard.  I thought that sex was supposed to clear your mind,” Enjolras looks as radiant as ever and Marius isn’t sure how that’s possible, because he’s quite certain that he’s a mess. 

“That wasn’t…”

“It was,” Enjolras replies with a soft smile.  “At least, the way I understand it, as long as we both…you know…it counts.  We can work up to everything else,” he looks more open and vulnerable than Marius has ever seen him and part of him knows that he should feel lucky to see him this way. 

“And you’re…okay with that?” he asks hesitantly as Enjolras sighs and pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him and resting their foreheads together. 

“I didn’t hate it,” he says without emotion and Marius laughs despite himself.  “Let’s just say I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again.”

“Oh, good.  I wouldn’t, either,” he’s relieved, for the most part, and he closes his eyes and tries to relax fully when his phone buzzes at him from the nightstand. 

“He can’t leave us alone for one night, can he?” Enjolras sounds like he expected this and Marius wonders if he can just ignore it. 

“I kinda guessed he was going to give us the third degree in the morning but I thought he’d hold out a little longer,” he rolls over to grab his phone and shoves it into the nightstand drawer under a pile of clothing.  “There.”

“Good,” Enjolras pulls him in again and kisses him, slow and languid and completely comfortable.  “I’m not disclosing any details about our sex life to him.”

“You and me both,” Marius promises, even though he knows Courfeyrac will be insufferable about it for a while, at least until something else distracts him. 

“It’s strange saying that,” Enjolras says after a few moments of silence, his hands rhythmically stroking up and down Marius’ back.  “I never thought I’d have a sex life.”

“Because you nev3r saw yourself being sexually attracted to somebody or because you didn’t think anybody would want to be with you?” Marius asks cautiously, because this is more or less uncharted territory.  Yes, he’s known almost since the beginning that Enjolras hadn’t seemed to think much of the idea of sex, but he’s never quite known _why._

“Both, I guess.  I mean, I always knew that I wasn’t…attracted to women, and I learned pretty quickly that damn near _everybody_ is attracted to _me,_ so the thought of finding somebody that I’d want to be intimate with who wanted me for more than my looks was…I didn’t think it was possible until you,” his voice is low and earnest and Marius feels something in his chest tighten because it might not be a declaration of love, but damn, it may as well be. 

“Well, I, um,” he stammers, cursing himself for being so ineloquent at a time like this.  “That…I’m glad you found it.  With me.  I’m glad I found it with you,” he adds.  “I love you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not…I’m not saying it to make you feel guilty or anything and I hope you don’t think that I am…” he knows he’s rambling and he’s thankful when Enjolras cuts him off with a well-timed kiss.  “Mm.  So.”

“I know, don’t worry,” Enjolras smiles at him before yawning and flopping back onto the pillow.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I think we’re supposed to be tired after that,” Marius lets himself be pulled closer and it’s so natural now to just…wrap themselves up in each other.  He knows that the morning’s going to bring a lot of awkward questions and he’ll probably have to employ some pretty heavy avoidance tactics, but right now, things are about as perfect as he’s ever imagined they could be.

000

“You had to bring him.”

“Well, he’s part of our little family, so yes,” Joly sniffles and adjusts his coat, pulling the zipper down enough that the kitten can poke his still-tiny head out and mewl into the night air. 

“It’s fucking freezing,” Bahorel mutters, hands tucked under his armpits and looking less than pleased, but he takes the bottle Grantaire shoves at him thankfully and downs about half of whatever’s in there in one gulp.  “The damn fireworks don’t start until midnight so why are we out here at 11:30?”

“Because the park gets crowded and if we want the best view, we have to come early,” Musichetta replies with a sigh, because she’s been through this before, but Enjolras has to admit that it’s certainly not _warm_ out. 

Not that he’s going to complain, of course, but he does shift a little closer to Marius and slide an arm around his waist.  He probably needs it.

“Look at you lovebirds!” Courfeyrac comes bounding up with a cup of what’s probably hot chocolate in his hand, nearly losing his balance as his foot hits a patch of ice and he has to grab onto Combeferre to keep from falling.  “Right.  As I was saying….”

“As you were saying, you’re going to keep all questions about their love and sex lives to yourself because if you don’t _you’re_ going to be the one not getting any,” Feuilly looks over at Enjolras and he gives the other man an appreciative nod, because really, Courfeyrac would be much harder to deal with if Feuilly wasn’t around to keep him in check. 

“You’re so mean to me.”

“You’re the one that’s been keeping a secret from me for over a week,” he reminds him, looking back at Jehan who’s staring rather fixedly up at the sky.  “And since I’m apparently the only one that _doesn’t_ know what’s going on, I’d appreciate being told.”

“I…okay,” Jehan moves a few steps closer, drawing an envelope out of his pocket and wringing his hands a little nervously.  “You know the, um, the class that you’ve been helping me out for with the drawings and everything?  Well, my professor asked me who was doing that and I kind of…told her…”

“ _Jehan.”_

“Wait,” he implores, shaking the envelope as if that will help matters.  “Okay.  This isn’t charity.  But she…she thinks you’re really talented and she’s not really cool with the university being so exclusive when it comes to taking money over ability, so I don’t know how she managed to get the board to agree to this, but….it’s kind of a scholarship.  It’s not really enough for courses but it should be enough to get you your high school diploma and maybe by then we’ll have…changed their minds a little more.  You don’t have to take it,” he adds quickly but Feuilly looks rather lost for words. 

“Did you know about this?” Marius leans back and whispers into his ear, and Enjolras nods, letting his arms tighten around the other man’s waist.  “See?  Didn’t even have to stage a protest.”

“We’re leaving that for the spring,” Enjolras says firmly, because he knows well enough that having just one teacher on their side isn’t going to help in the long run and that she got _any_ money out of the board at all is a miracle. 

“Right,” Marius doesn’t sound like he’s entirely convinced, but he is smiling, at least. 

“So?” Jehan looks decidedly nervous now, his hand dropping a little before Feuilly sighs and reaches for the envelope, staring at it as if he wants to open it before he shrugs and tucks it into his coat and the poet heaves a visible sigh of relief. 

“I just…thank you, Jehan.  Really.  I’m…kind of overwhelmed right now, this is probably more money than I’ve ever had in my life,” he laughs nervously but readily accepts the hug that Jehan gives him.  “I’m truly grateful.”

“I know,” Jehan assures him.  “You deserve that more than anybody I know.”

Feuilly looks around and seems to realize that everybody’s looking at him, so he stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns toward the lake, but Enjolras can tell that he’s far happier about this than he’s letting himself show at the moment.  

“It’s almost midnight,” Musichetta breaks the silence, tucked against Joly’s side, and there’s a few moments of utter stillness before the sky erupts in bursts of color and sound. 

Even though he’s seen it before, it’s still breathtaking, and from the way Marius is staring wide-eyed at the night sky he knows the younger man is just as entranced.  “Happy New Year,” he whispers, Marius looking back enough to nod in agreement. 

“I think it will be,” he replies, looking around before pressing a quick kiss to the other man’s lips.  “But then, I never could have imagined last year ending the way it did, with…” he makes a vague head gesture that seems to encompass everybody standing around them and Enjolras knows exactly what he means.  “Do you have any resolutions?”

He’s turns around fully now, hands braced on Enjolras’ shoulders and eyes almost luminous as they reflect the multicolored fireworks, and Enjolras knows somewhere deep inside of him that, for as much as he claims to know nothing about romance, if he doesn’t take some sort of chance now he’ll always regret it. 

“To tell you that I love you,” he says before he can second-guess himself too much.  Marius’ eyes widen and he looks genuinely shocked, clearing his throat a few times before he asks, “You mean that?”

“Would I say it if I didn’t?”

“No, you…no,” Marius admits before laughing joyously and kissing him again.  He turns back toward the lake, then, looking content and pleased.  “Happy New Year, indeed.”

Enjolras steps closer so that he’s pressed up against his back and embraces him more firmly this time, no longer caring if anybody’s about to comment on it. 

It doesn’t matter.  Right now, and maybe for the first time in his life, he’s got everything that he needs.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter/epilogue to go and then this fic will have reached its end. Thank you to everybody that’s still reading, and hopefully I’ll have that up soon :)


	25. Epilogue

"You look nervous."

"It's just…marriage. It's a big deal," Marius turns from straightening his tie in the mirror and clasps his hands in front of him, wondering why he's so anxious all of a sudden.

"It's not your marriage," Courfeyrac moves closer and takes over for him, smoothing down his collar while he's at it. "There."

"Thanks," he sighs and sits down on a nearby couch, foot tapping idly against the carpet. "I guess I've just never seen myself as the guy that would have close enough friends that I'd actually go to their weddings."

"So you and him…that's not in your future?" Courfeyrac sits beside him and slings an arm over his shoulders. He's mellowed in the last three years, although he's still far more flirtatious and touchy than most people, and Marius doesn't get to see him as much since they don't live together anymore. So this…having a day when all of them can get together…it rarely happens, and it's nice.

"Maybe one day. But it's not something we've really talked about," he shrugs, stopping himself from fiddling with his tie and messing it up again by clamping his hands firmly in his lap. "And you and…"

"God, no, marriage isn't for either of us," Courfeyrac laughs and Marius has to admit that he has a point. It's still kind of amazing to him that they've all made it this far with relatively little drama, but he's grateful for it all the same.

The door creaks open then and Enjolras breezes in, as commanding and graceful as ever, settling himself on Marius' other side.

"Are we ready?"

"Soon, I think. I'm not interrupting whatever madness they've got going on out there," he admits before the door opens again and Musichetta all but flies in, Feuilly following her and closing the door firmly before he sags against it and pulls irritably at his collar.

"Sorry," Musichetta straightens up and walks over to the mirror, smiling as she takes in her appearance. "My girls are lovely but I'm still far more used to hanging out with you guys and I need that masculine energy right now," she says with a laugh, stopping when there's a rather disgruntled meow from the far side of the door and Feuilly opens it just enough that the cat, now much bigger and sleeker and grumpier, apparently, slinks in. "He really is part of the family," she reaches down to scratch under his chin as he starts purring happily.

"You look lovely, my dear. Do your parents and his parents know that you're also going home with his best man tonight?" Courfeyrac seemingly can't resist and she waves a hand at him.

"Stop. And no, of course not, but that's not really any of their business who we share our bed with," she adds and he shrugs, looking put-out for some reason.

"I'm jealous, that's all. I think adding a third person to the experience could be a lot of fun…"

"No," Feuilly says firmly, still looking horribly uncomfortable. "God, I hate suits. Haven't worn one in years and now I think I'm remembering why," he loosens his tie a little and breathes a sigh of relief.

"You look so handsome, though," Musichetta assures him. "You all do."

Enjolras shrugs non-committedly and stares at his lap, and even though Marius is used to him being, well, moody, this is odd even for him.

"Hey," he whispers, reaching over to grip the other man's hand. "What's wrong?"

"I'd say 'nothing' but you know me too well by now. It's just my parents, as usual. When they found out I was going to a friend's wedding today they decided that they'll just have to 'try harder' to find me a wife and I…I can't tell them the truth, but I can't keep playing along like this, either," he looks conflicted and Marius isn't quite sure what to say because this has always been one thing there doesn't seem to be a good solution to.

"You know I have enough money to take care of us if they, you know, do something really drastic…" he stops, because of course Enjolras knows, and Marius might not be best friends with his grandfather but they have managed to patch things up and when the older man had guessed the truth he had, as Marius has surmised all those years before, been far more interested in the fact that Enjolras has a good family name and a lot of money than the fact that he's another man.

"I know. I do. I just hate living a lie and being a coward about this, but I don't think I have any other choice at the moment," he sounds frustrated. Courfeyrac leans over to pat his knee, looking at least mildly sympathetic.

"Hey, we're supposed to be celebrating today, remember? Have your family angst another time," he adds and Enjolras shrugs, obviously agreeing even if he doesn't say it aloud. Marius squeezes his hand before letting go and the door opens again as Jehan slips in.

"Where are the others?" Musichetta turns from adjusting her hair in the mirror, the cat twining around her legs and darting under the hem of her dress when she moves to pick him up.

"Combeferre's sitting down in the lobby, Grantaire's at the hotel bar…"

"This shouldn't surprise anybody," Enjolras sighs and Marius nudges him gently. He knows that Enjolras and Grantaire are friends now, but he also knows that Enjolras is hardly a fan of how much the other man drinks and they'll probably never see eye-to-eye on that matter.

"And Bahorel's trying to pick up your maid of honor," he says to Musichetta, who laughs and shakes her head.

"Well, I'll wish him good luck with that one but I doubt he'll have any," she looks amused, finally sighing and bending down to pick the cat up and, keeping him held far away from her dress, sets him on the bed.

"Oh, and nobody's seen Joly or Bossuet for…a while, now," Jehan stuffs his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the door.

"I trust them to be careful," Musichetta frowns and crosses her arms. "Well, I trust Joly, anyway, but I don't want there to be any scandal about how the husband-to-be was caught in a compromising position with his best man," she turns back to the mirror for one more quick check before nodding in apparent satisfaction.

"Speaking of fooling around and compromising positions…" Courfeyrac has a glint in his eye that can only mean one thing and Marius sighs internally because no, he's never going to change. "Jehan, dear, how do you feel about threesom-"

"Still no," Feuilly cuts him off before he can finish. "And we're going to talk about this later," he adds, although Courfeyrac doesn't look at all disappointed by that.

Jehan laughs nervously but Musichetta smoothly comes to his rescues, holding out her hand. "Well, I guess we'd better start getting ready. Walk me down?" she asks and he nods and offers her his arm, leading her out of the room.

"That's our cue as well, gents, so let's get this thing started," Courfeyrac hops to his feet, grabbing Feuilly's hand and pulling him toward the door, and once they're gone Enjolras stands up and holds his own hand out to Marius.

"Shall we?"

"Yeah," Marius stands up, lacing his fingers with the other man's as they leave the room (and the still-purring cat, who's now decided to curl up on the bed and has happily gone to sleep).

And really, he thinks as they take the elevator down to the ground floor, if somebody had asked him five years ago where he'd see himself today his answer would probably have been radically different from the reality. But a rather large part of him knows than, whatever it might have been, it certainly wouldn't have been any better than the life he's living right now.

"Now who's thinking too hard?" Enjolras says quietly, cupping his cheek and kissing him just as the doors open. "Come on. If I'm not allowed to worry about anything today, neither are you."

"I wasn't worrying," Marius shakes his head. "Just…thinking about how this all happened. How different it might have been if we hadn't, um, acted really out of character that one night at that party."

"Maybe we would have still found each other somehow," Enjolras isn't normally one to be sappy and he doesn't say this as if it's meant to be romantic. It's simply a fact in his mind and Marius can't really say whether or not he's right.

But then, he realizes, it doesn't matter. Because, no matter how it happened, they did find each other.

"Yeah. I'm sure we would have," he smiles, Enjolras settling an arm around his waist and guiding him forward as they walk through the hotel lobby to meet their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yes, we've come to the end! Thank you for everybody who's reviewed or commented or otherwise encouraged me on this fic, because I honestly had no idea if anybody would read it or like it when I started writing it and I'm very glad people have been so positive about it!
> 
> 2\. As I mentioned before, I'm working on another Enjolras/Marius fic and I've got about three chapters written now so I'll probably post the first one within the next couple of days, so be sure to look for that if you're interested :)
> 
> 3\. And again, thank you all so much!


End file.
